


Scared Potter (Drarry Fanfiction)

by MicheSpade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Mental Instability, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:14:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 57
Words: 43,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27371749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MicheSpade/pseuds/MicheSpade
Summary: This story is originally posted on Wattpad. I decided to post it here as well since a lot of people asked me to.The first few chapters were written when I was around the age of 13 (I am 24 now). My English has developed over time. The first story is finished and ready to read throughout. The sequel is currently added and being updated as frequently as possible. Please enjoy!Description:Harry decides to prank Draco after a game of Quidditch. Desiring for Draco to go mad, he waits for him in an empty classroom. However, as soon as he realizes Draco wants to vent his anger in different way, he appears to be rather withdrawn and insecure - despite the fact he highly likes it. Does this mean Draco has more guts than Harry, after all? They decide to create a distance between them. After not seeing each other for months, they meet by utter chance. They are tensed, confused, and ready for a fall now school starts again. How will they manage, now shadows are trailing behind them? Draco, obnoxious and knocked with daddy issues. Harry, now insecure and put on edge - knowing he's the chosen one.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Scared potter?

'Blimey Harry!'

Hermione gasped for breath as she finally found some support by leaning against a wall, and after she hit Harry several times on his shoulder with her just-barrowed library book, she clenched her teeth to purse her lips highly unsatisfied after. 'Why on earth did you do that?'

'What?' Harry gasped while cleaning his glasses. 'Why did I do what?'

Hermione nearly rolled her eyes, and pulled him along at his robe, apparently not accepting the nonsense.

'You know what I'm talking about, Harry. Stop doing such idiotic things! You know Malfoy is not going to accept this. If he finds out what you did, you are going to be in trouble.' She hit his shoulder a second time, and then glanced around in the hope not to find Malfoy or one his bulky "slaves".

'You're acting daft lately.' She shook her head now. 'What's wrong with you really?'

Harry pursed his lips now, glancing over Hermione's shoulder to search for the sight of someone too, but didn't seem to put any effort in listening.

'Harry?' Hermione continued then - more accurate. 'Are you even listening?'

'Huh?'

Hermione sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose shortly by frustration, and wetted her lips then.

'Look. If you've suddenly decided to act like a badboy, that's fine with me...' She frowned now, shaking her head quickly. 'Well, it's not fine. But... who am I to-' She never finished her sentence and just inhaled deeply. 'Just stay out of trouble. Okay?'

Harry shrugged but nodded eventually, though it didn't look very convincing.

'Because you're possibly the chosen one, it doesn't mean you're invincible or anything.'

'But I am the chosen one,' Harry smirked in reply - what resulted another hit from Hermione with the book, but this time against his head. 'Okay, sorry.'

Hermione sighed another time, and lowered her book now - gently brushing her fingers along the cover of it because she apparently seemed to care for it, especially after the hits.

'I'm going to the common room.' She pointed out to her book now and slowly headed away already - though with her body face still facing Harry's. 'I would like to read some of this before the papers will tear out of its binding.'

'Well perhaps you should stop hitting me for once. It would safe you lots of books and energy.'

Hermione lifted her brows indignantly, and it appeared that Harry was asking for another hit, again.

'Will I see you later?' she continued eventually - after cleaning her face from her irritated, indignant expression. Harry nodded, smiling generously, and then lifted his hand.

'Yeah. Don't worry about me. I'll catch you up in minutes, I think. It won't take long.'

Hermione actually wanted to ask what Harry was up to, especially since h announced his doings with "it", but a soon as she threw another glance at her book, she decided just not to. So with a brief nod and a forced smile she turned, heading towards the common room after to leave Harry on his own.

Less than a minute after Hermione's leaving, a loud growl echoed through the corridor.

'POTTER!'

Harry flinched, but couldn't keep himself from feeling highly excited at the familiar angry voice. Speedily he took a jump into one of the closest classrooms, what caused that he didn't have any time to think of the luck he had - being some off them still open - and after nuzzling himself between two bookshelves, he took a breath to listen to the sounds around after. It took quite a moment before someone finally pushed the door open - what Harry had been aiming for - and he found it rather confusing how he seemed to hope for that particular person. It appeared to be Malfoy.

'Did mommy never tell you it's rude to touch other their stuff without asking, Potter?'

A sweeping noise got audible, and before Harry knew what was happening, a row of textbooks dropped down from the shelves - right in front of his feet. It was more of a small explosion that had been caused by Draco's spell nearly hitting Harry's head what had probably been the intention.

'Venting anger on books, I see?' Harry spoke then, revealing himself from between the bookshelves. He didn't seem to fear, though. A miniscule, challenging smile crossed his lips even - to Draco's frustration.

Draco growled, casting another spell towards Harry's appearance again (he was standing on a distance) but missed again, as if he meant to. Several vials and jars broke, and many dried frog eyes rolled over the floor - though they didn't come very far.

'I'm happy to see you too, Malfoy.'

'What did you do to my suit!?' Draco sneered as he scowled. Harry took this perfect opportunity to scan him from head to toe, and titled his head after cocking it.

'Well, the only conclusion that I can draw is that you've wet yourself,' referring to the large wet spot at the crotch of his pants. The spot had been a result of Harry's prank, though. As boyish as he rarely could be, he decided to put that specific spot under the shower after playing a game of quidditch.

Draco stepped dangerously close now, and hit his flattened hand against Harry's face though he still pointed his wand at him too - it just appeared that he didn't dare to use it. Not on Harry to cause any harm, at least. Harry stared at the ground pensively, clenching his jaws together while feeling his skin burn, but terribly enjoyed the way Draco just showed his anger too. It was a progress to what he was aiming for, but still weak. He wanted to piss him off, for once. Really piss him off.

'You're an ass, Potter. Wait until my father hears about this.'

'Hears about what? The way you decided to have your revenge by slapping me on the cheek? He'll feel ashamed. I assure you. You used a flattened hand.'

Draco gritted his teeth now, seeming to struggle with his fears and frustrations, what caused Harry to back off slowly - but not in a way of fearing. He didn't fear for Malfoy. He just wanted to challenge him. In all the years he'd know him, he only realized he became more insecure in time. He wouldn't have the guts to kill him, nor severely injure him.

'Do it,' Harry hissed through his clenched teeth now - he actually caught himself at smirking. He wasn't sure why, but he craved for Draco to hurt him. Though Draco always tried to come through as dangerous, powerful and sly, Harry had always felt more demanding over him, than vice versa. Draco approached him rapidly, but still didn't seem to be sure whether to hit him with his flattened hand again, or cast a harming spell. He knew them. He knew many of them. But did he ever dare to use even a single one?

'I can not blame your father,' Harry continued then - what made Draco lower his wand for a single moment, if just a bit. '-you're really the most pathetic guy I've ever met in my entire life.' And they both knew, compared to others Harry knew, that that was something to feel indignant and offended about. Finally something seemed to snap in Malfoy. His eyes widened as the muscles in his neck tensed, and in seconds Harry got a fist crushed against his nose. A warm, glowing feeling numbed Harry's nose, and in seconds he felt how a stream of warm blood rushed down from his nostrils towards his salmon pink lips. Proudly he revealed his white teeth, showing off his gums that coloured ruby red in no time too, and to Draco's surprise Harry didn't seem to hit back like he expected him to.

'Finally,' Harry muttered in an exhale. He leaned back with his head against the wall, and thumbed the tip of his tongue along his upper lip - tasting the coppery frequent of blood in his entire mouth in seconds. 'Was it really that hard?'

Draco stared at Harry with widened eyes - apparently having his wand dropped or put away cause he was rubbing his fingers along his knuckles now (the once that crushed Harry's nose seconds ago). He stared at him as if he'd just seen a ghost.

'Malfoy?'

What happened after was something Harry had never foreseen. He'd planed to use many spells, fighting moves and take ways of escaping if really necessary, but none of them had been necessary for what suddenly followed. Not really at least. Draco suddenly grabbed Harry's jaw, as if he was planning to break his neck or whatsoever, but instead of doing such cruel thing, he crushed his lips onto those of Harry - immediately allowing the coppery taste of blood to touch his tongue since he took advantage of Harry's parted lips. A hitch got audible in Harry's breathing. With widened eyes he searched for something to support himself with, since it felt as if he was toppling back, but as soon as he realized he did not, and it was actually just the feeling of getting extremely excited, he took the opportunity of kissing back slowly. He didn't know where to leave his hands, though. He was basically just getting squeezed between Draco and the wall now, and he had no specific idea of what Draco was about to do any moment. In fact, he had no single clue of what was happening even. Yet, somehow he'd been aiming for this also. He strongly craved for physical contact the last few months, now he'd reached such age, but... with Malfoy? Really? He did want to wrap his arms around him, though. But didn't do so just yet.

'Wh-' Harry tried to speak through Draco's roughly way of kissing. Slowly he pulled back a bit, what resulted Draco to move his lips towards Harry's neck, and while Draco seemed to struggle with Harry's properly tied tie, Harry tried to swallow away some blood so he could ask a question in a proper way after. Now he thought of it. Wasn't it disgusting to snog while someone bled? Maybe this had something to do with being a Slytherin, though? Maybe they liked it kinky...

'What are you doing?' Harry panted then - nearly groaning as Draco suddenly reached a remarkably sensitive spot in his neck.

'Shut up, Potter,' Draco growled while pressing his body closer against those of Harry. 'I know this is exactly what you want.'

A warm wave of excitement rushed through Harry's belly now, and goosebumbs popped up his skin in seconds. 'How do you know that?' Harry replied with gritted teeth - trying his best to hold back a groan.

'You don't fool me, halfblood.'

It appeared that even these remarks couldn't bother Harry now. A smirk crossed his blood-drained lips, and he allowed his own hands to discover some parts of Draco's body now. Immediately they slipped under Malfoy's cardigan, and remarkably enough Harry highly seemed to like what he felt there. His fingertips followed the abs that were hidden beneath the cotton of his white shirt. The feeling of a strong, warm, male body made Harry's blood stream quicker through his veins. He was lucky that his nose had stop bleeding already. It hadn't take long. Would it be broken? Or just bruised? The thoughts were quickly lost, though. Before Harry knew so, Malfoy nipped at his collar bone - he'd opened the first three buttons of his shirt already - and another groan escaped his throat as he rushed his hand through Draco's blonde hair. He messed it up, purposely. Softly he pulled his roots, making sure he did not hurt him, and after another brief groan, he pulled back to push his lips onto his now. During biting in Draco's lower lip teasingly, he searched for the first few buttons from his shirt - leaving the tie alone himself. However, soon enough, after kissing Draco's neck repeatedly also, he realized he wasn't as outgoing as he was. He didn't dare to do more. Not yet. He was insecure, or inexperienced - though probably just as much as Draco was. Did this mean after all Draco had more guts than he had? Or was it just in the subject of making-out, snogging, showing off your sexual frustrations, etcetera?

'What is it, Potter?' Draco smirked as soon as he pressed his lips onto those of Harry again. His tune was mocking, and it appeared that Draco desperately wanted to stroke his tongue along the edges of Harry's teeth again.

'You look pretty,' Harry breathed against Draco's lips eventually without realizing how stupid and uncommon that might sound.

Draco frowned as he moved back a bit, trying to ignore the taste of Harry's blood on his tongue, and apparently pretended to hate him again because of the way he tried to change his expression so rapidly at seeing him. As if he just realized it was actually Harry Potter he'd been kissing, and not some girl from the same house as he was in. 'What?'

'I said you look shitty,' Harry quickly corrected himself - wriggling himself quickly out of Draco's awkward embrace while closing the buttons of his cotton shirt. There were spots of blood on it, one button had been apparently pulled off, and he wasn't sure how to fix that all quickly. He snorted after thumbing the back of his hand along his lips, and headed away then, though not leaving the classroom just yet. It appeared that Harry really didn't feel secure about this - though this brief, random, uncommon making-out scene with his enemy hadn't feel bad at all. In fact, it had feel great even.

'Scared, Potter?' Draco smirked as he stroked his thumb along his lower lip to get rid of a smear of Harry's blood. He didn't seem to be disgusted by that.

'Goodnight Malfoy,' Harry simply replied - leaving Draco alone in the classroom quickly after...


	2. Borgin and Burkes

It had been months since Harry faced Draco. That special meeting caused some serious damage to Harry's brain, and he couldn't afford his school to suffer by it. He had more important things to put his focus to. For example, finishing many essays he'd been piling up over the weeks. Obviously he saw him once a while, at school whenever they had class together, but they never spoke – not that they ever did much. Now school was about to start again, his head became more fuzzy every minute. Malfoy haunted him in his dreams. Causing Harry to see things that weren't really there. Obscure thinking. Not quite pleasant.

'Oh come on Ron!' Hermione barked, and she rolled her eyes.

Ron chuckled under his breath and glanced up at Harry, lifting his brows highly enjoyed. 'Oh please, it was just a joke.'

'It was idiotic,' Hermione concluded, after what Harry nodded convincing – beside the fact he was busy trying to keep the smirk from his face. Ron sighed, taking the pot of floo powder in his hand, and he offered Harry to go first. They were planning on visiting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Having the strange desire to prank around, and see what they could get their hands on for easy money.

'Don't get lost,' Ron smirked to bring back the memory of years ago when Harry first used the floo powder. Hermione slapped Ron against the shoulder, yet it didn't seem to destroy much of the joy. Harry didn't really mind Ron. He simply took a hand of powder and simply stepped into flames as needed.

'Diagon alley?' he asked nevertheless.

'Obviously,' Ron nodded as he briefly glanced at Hermione who still seemed to be pretty pissed. Harry stared straight in front of him, holding up his hand to throw the powder into the flames any moment, and he started pronouncing the alley accurate to get it right.

'Diagon-'

He got interrupted by Ron nodding heavily as he smirked, and he frowned briefly as he eventually finished with '-nally.'

Harry got sucked away, in the end thrown out of a dusty fireplace, and he coughed as he rolled over to his eyes – not daring to open his eyes just yet. Had it gone wrong again? After all these years of no-trouble-traveling? He gritted his teeth, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes as he tried to breathe through his with dust stuffed nose. He was quite lucky though. At least his glasses weren't broken this time.

As he put them on again, he glanced around while trying to get on his feet. Curiously he thumbed his eyes along all the strange objects near him, and it didn't take long for him to realize he'd end at the exact same spot like he had years ago. Borgin and Burkes. Harry swiftly moved forward to get out of the store as quickly as possible, knowing he supposed to meet Hermione and Ron in Diagon Alley instead of Knockturn Alley, yet something blocked his way right before he got the change to pop up from behind a storage cabinet. Mr Borgin came out of the room that was attached to the store – probably linking to a space he stayed whenever he had no costumers coming around. He snorted dissatisfied, patting his dirty hands against his trousers, and he glanced through the shop suspiciously since he'd apparently hear Harry shoving over the ground when he got spit out by the flames. This caused Harry to gasp and quickly turn his heels to find a hiding spot elsewhere. Finding – what he thought to be – the same closet he'd seen years ago, he quickly moved towards it and hid himself between the poking brooms to keep Mr. Borgin from finding him. He didn't want the people here to know he was here. No one had to know about his little accident, and he didn't feel like talking to that filthy man of a Borgin.

Mr. Borgin slowly sauntered through the shop, looking for the cause of the sounds, and he stood still staring down at the mess in front of the fireplace. Someone came in there through there... Someone who'd disappear just as quick as he or she arrived.

A clinging sound got audible. A scraping sound came from behind Mr. Borgin's back, and someone coughed. Mr. Borgin turned, rubbing his hands delighted, and an oily smile appeared onto his tired and sly appearance.

'Mr Malfoy, Draco, what a pleasure again. I didn't expect you so early.'

'Plans changed,' Lucius replied as he moved to the center of the shop and glanced around. Draco followed him shortly after.

'Are you...?' Mr Borgin started.

'Selling,' Lucius finished in a mutter as he scanned the room. 'There's something outside I'd like to you to see.'

'Yes, Mr Malfoy. Of course, I'm coming.'

And as quick as that Harry thought he would be safea gain – to his surprise and luck. Unfortunately, in the end it appeared he wasn't going to be left alone like he hoped so. There was one particular person in the shop that remained wandering there, and it was nobody less than Draco Malfoy. He gave the explanation to his father that he wanted to check something. Harry didn't know what to think of that, and it honestly got him quite excited. Spying on Draco was something rather interesting. The whole Slytherin scum was always full of secret. Unfortunately Draco headed straight towards the corner Harry was hiding in, and so he forced his hand to his mouth as the blonde came closer. His breath was pushing against the wooden cabinet door, and he wished he could close the crack in between. If Draco noticed someone was near, and he would investigate the cabinet, Harry would be doomed.


	3. You ruined me

Draco moved through the room like a predator. Slowly, melancholic, yet stiffly. Like he always did. His nostrils were lifted by mischief. He knew he would soon find something. Something that could gain him pride from his father. A shoulder pat. A good call in their brotherhood. Draco strongly craved for such amazing publicity. He was known as a coward. No one really told him, ever. Not in the order at least. But he knew. It was obvious. Harry bit his lower lip, feeling uncomfortable and creeped by the dirty closet he was in. Draco's steps echoed. Harry swore he could hear him breathing. He was close. Harry blinked. His body ached by the terrible way of traveling, and he was short of breath since there was a lot of dust around. Find me, he thought. He gritted his teeth and dropped his head against the wooden wall behind him. He exhaled deeply. Almost as if he wanted to be caught. And so Draco brushed his fingertips along the outside of the wooden closet - his touch gnawing its way through Harry's brain. A beam of light entered, and the pale face of a dirty boy lighted up. Draco lifted his chin, breathing deeply through his nose - trying his best not to be surprised, or extremely happy and relieved.

"You," he hissed as he threw a quick glance over his shoulder. He grabbed Harry's shoulder to pull him further into light. "How did you get here?"

Harry pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes as if the light was burning him. "Through the chimney. Obvious, isn't it? According to my poor appearance, as you would call it."

"I'd say you look poor anytime. Your hair looks like shit."

"Thanks."

Draco narrowed his eyes and grabbed Harry by his neck - scanning him closely, as if he was checking whether he stole some of his cookies and he could find the evidence in the corners of his mouth. "Now, what are you doing here? Think you can spy on me and my father? I think not."

"As if I'd be interested in any of your fruity activities. Shopping for new pyjamas and picture books so your mommy can read you to sleep."

Draco swiftly moved on his heels, pushing Harry with his head against the wall as he drew his wand.

"So easily offended," Harry muttered as he brushed the tip of his tongue along his lips. "I came here by accident. If it makes you feel any better about yourself. I definitely didn't mean to meet you here."

Draco lowered his wand, letting go of Harry's collar, and straightened his back as he threw another glance to the front door.

"I haven't seen you in a while," he muttered as he scratched the back of his head - messing up his white, neatly cut hair. "You've been avoiding me."

"I see no reason why," Harry replied.

"Because of what happened, perhaps? Months ago."

Harry strongly avoided any eye contact. He didn't know why, but it seemed for the best. He could already sense the tension between the two of them. "That was a mistake," Harry muttered. "Only to mock you."

"You ruined me," Draco almost shouted as he clenched his fists. "You made me feel like utter shit!"

"You started it," Harry continued - unimpressed. "I'd say it was some guilty fantasy of yours, and during the heat of the moment you just..." A cheeky grin crossed his lips. "...revealed your inner self."

Someone dropped something. Lucius cursed between his teeth, and Mister Borgin deeply apologized.

"We should talk soon. Privately. And without your cocky bullshit attitude."

Harry smirked and fixed his collar. "Fine by me. I still have to pass through that front door, though. I'm sure you can help me out?"

"No," Draco replied sharply as he turned his back. "Good luck with finding your way back up that chimney, Santa." And he vanished outside, joining his father to make Mister Borgin crap himself.


	4. Burning

Funny, how Harry decided to keep his mouth shut once he managed to find his way back to his original destination. Without giving a proper clarification about his messy looks, he simply walked along with his confidential musketeers, buying the stuff they needed for the next week. School was about to start again, and how coincidental for him to meet the one person he'd been trying to avoid for months on his very first day of fixing his school supplies. As if they were meant to meet. Harry couldn't get him out of his head. How forceful and confident Malfoy had been. Something new. Something invigorating. There was something about this boy, something different – and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Thinking about their encounter, months ago, his lips started to burn – a familiar smell raising some sort of excitement to keep his breath off edge, his heartbeat speeding at the thought of it.

"Harry," Ron cried as he choked in one of his homemade sandwiches – he was on a budget. "You are bleeding!"

Ripped by arms enclosing him, he tried to avoid Hermione's caring treatments – who immediately grabbed an handkerchief to stop Harry from flooding the pavers with blood. "Hands off," Hermione muttered as Harry tried to stop her actions – his thoughts still out of space. "It's just a nosebleed," Harry replied at last – taking the cloth to do the job himself. "Must be the weather," he muttered as he squeezed his eyes to keep the sun from burning his pupils. "Besides, I'm starving."

"I asked you twice," Ron muttered as he stuffed his face with the last bits of crust, "-if you wanted a slice. You didn't respond."

"Sorry," Harry continued as he investigated the shades of blood on the flowery patterned handkerchief. "I was thinking."

"About what?" the others asked at the exact same time. "Excuse me Harry," Hermione cut through as she stepped to the side. "You've been acting strange. What has been going on your mind? Where on earth have you been?"

Though Harry felt eager to tell about his experiences, he knew he simply couldn't. He had to sort it all out himself first, and the last four months didn't really seemed to have enlightened him. And so, Harry decided to lie with a dash of truth – knowing it would raise a certain suspicion, but of a whole other sort. Safely for Harry to continue his thoughts, and perhaps figure things out.

"Borgin and Burkes," he replied as he searched for their eyes. "Lucius is selling something, and I'm keen to find out what it is."

Hermione raised a brow, while Ron seemed to be rather busy checking out something completely else. A girl, giggling with her friends – her long, golden bunch of curls trailing down her back like a fountain of liquid gold.

"Probably just one of his creepy skull collections," Hermione muttered as he tugged Ron by the arm. "Does he have any?" Harry replied as he threw a glance at the golden haired girl. "Surely."

Hermione tugged them two along, planning on going home soon since her belly became to growl for some lunch too. However, a certain curiosity crossed her mind. "Don't mind me asking, Harry. But what's with the strange obsession?"

"What?"

"Your obsession with the Malfoy's. It's becoming stronger."

"Don't bother. Let's head home. I'm about to pass out."


	5. It's just my skin

Harry took a shower later that evening. His nose was a mess, having his third nosebleed today, but he couldn't bother – knowing the weather was awfully unpleasant. His head hurt all afternoon, and the burning sensation caused his lips to tingle, and Malfoy his words crept through his mind like a snake he was. You ruined me, it echoed through the bathroom – as if the walls could speak, and the water transported the sound waves. His voice low, and vibrating through every limp. Brushing his flattened hand through his sleeky, wetted hair, he pursed his lips as his back touched the cold tiles behind him. His eyes were closed. Thinking about his upcoming year, he frowned his brows – his body shuddering by the cold. Hermione told him to take a break after looking rather pale all day. Hardly ever freely to find her ideas most useful, he finally felt righteous to say so. Taking a shower allowed his muscles to find some ease, and to clear his mind from unwanted fantasies about his white-haired fellow student. His vision blurry, and his ears overwhelmed, he brushed his fingers down his lips – finding a pleasant taste on his tongue. Though he hardly allowed dirty fantasies to trail through his head, he sighed at a recognizable scent – matching Draco's skin.

"Fuck me," he cursed under his breath as he straightened his back – ready to turn off the shower. 

"I bet you'd like that."

Harry almost slipped by agony, his hands gripping the cranes to stay steady on his feet. "What on this bloody earth are you-"

His voice shut down as he grabbed his towel – turning his head over his shoulder to find the blurry shadow from no red-haired boy called a Weasley, but a white-haired tall guy, his skin as pale it made him forget how to breathe.

"How did you get in here?"

The silhouette walked closer through the damp air – his white form falling down like a cloak.

"Who are you?" Harry muttered as his hand trailed across the wall to find the cabinet. "I will kill you Ron, really."

A soft laughter escaped the shadow its throat, and it seemed to slide something off its neck. "I told you I wanted to speak to you privately."

"Draco," Harry stated breathlessly. "No."

"Don't be afraid, you know a coward like me could never hurt you. The great Harry Potter."

"How are the others?" he snapped as he swept his hand along the counter – toothbrushes clattering down to the ground. "Where the fuck are my glasses!"

"Oh come on," Draco replied. He was smirking. "I came here for you. Alone. No one saw me."

"How convenient," Harry replied – the towel covering his parts for the greater good. "I'd like you to leave now. Goodbye." Trying to find the way out, his toes searched around for the edge of the bathtub. Meeting the ground, fabric wrinkled under his foot – buttons activating his pressure points, and he looked up as soon as he saw another piece of clothing falling down in front of him. "What are you doing?" He pulled his foot back – as if he thought to be safe between the small walls of the tub.

"The shower is still on," Draco replied in a whisper. "I thought, why not join you."

"Fuck off," Harry scoffed – expecting this to be a joke. "It's been fun, everyone. Now give me my glasses and get out. Who took my wand?"

The white silhouette known as Draco, took his position beside him now – tugging the shower curtains for a close, capturing them like a cocoon. And Harry stopped breathing. His eyesight became a little more clear at last – and at ones he could see the clear features of Draco Malfoy – revealing his naked body like a clear canvas.

"What's with the long face?" Draco smirked – titling his head to the side. Harry couldn't do anything. With his lips parted, and his lungs out of oxygen, his blood started to circulate much slower. Allowing hands to take his jawline, to enclose his features And then it came. The blinding kiss. The touch of skin to skin. And he couldn't move.


	6. Is this real

He was paralyzed. His body aching – hands investigated his body. Could he care for their talk? Now their lips were connected, and they were all alone. Naked. It was going too fast for his mind to register their doings. Something he couldn't control. Not now the white-haired boy trailed his long, bony fingers down his body like searching through an old archive in the restricted area. "We shouldn't," Harry muttered nevertheless, as soon as he managed to pull back and look him in his blue, zircon eyes.

"But I want to," Draco continued, moving his lips down his jawline to kiss his neck. Harry closed his eyes, the frown increasing on his forehead.

A knocking noise caused Harry's heart to skip a beat, and pull back – resulting his head to bump against the tiled wall behind him. "Yeah?" he tried to start with some volume – though a stutter was noticeable in his raw voice.

"Harry, are you okay? It's past bedtime, and I'd like to freshen up a bit before hopping off to bed." Clearly Hermione's voice. "Are you surely alright?"

Harry scratched the back of his head, hissing by the pain pounding up on a specific area – only now realizing he was totally alone. "Y-yeah," he replied as he turned the shower off at last. "I think I dozed off a little."

It was most clear that Hermione let out an annoyed sigh, resulting for Harry to jump into his bathrobes as quick as possible – stuffing his dry toothbrush between his teeth, hoping to take the attention off his red fluttered cheeks. Funny, how he didn't even realize he put on his glasses the very second he got out of the tub. As if they'd never been gone – because they had not.

"Ron seemed to have a surprise for you," Hermione continued. Only a few seconds after, Harry opened the bathroom door – a damp steam wriggling amongst him. "You clearly need some sleep," she stated, seeing Harry's hollowed eyes. "Now move. I want to get up early tomorrow. We need to do more packing, and there's a possibility..." She sighed. "Just go to bed. Ron is going crazy on his own." Holding Harry's head, she gave him a brief kiss on his forehead – right next to his scar, surprisingly enough giving his pounding head a rest. "Goodnight."

"Hey," Harry muttered as he entered Ron's bedroom. Rubbing his hair dry with a towel, he stared at the spare bed – knowing how much it would please his exhausted body. If Ron could only keep his blabbering short...

"Ew," Ron chuckled as he tossed a comic to the side. "You look like a granny. How long have you been lingering under the shower?"

"Too long," Harry replied moody. "I feel most horrible."

"Ah, well I got something that will surely cheer you up. Look at this." Ron fetched a folded article from under his pillow, and raised his brows by surprise – as if he'd never read it before. "Lucius Malfoy arrested after abusive manners." A smirk formed itself on his face. "Dipshit. He couldn't keep himself from venting his anger on mister Borgin. Apparently their deal is off. Curse him."

Harry sat down on the bed, rubbing his eyes, and threw Ron a quick glance. He would've been impressed, and curious, if it wasn't for his terrible daydream causing his head to spin. "How is Draco?" he asked before he knew it.

"Dunno," Ron replied, shrugging as he stuck his nose closer to the paper. "They suspect Lucius of using the cruciatus curse. I hope they are saving him a room in Azkaban."

"How is mister Borgin?"

"Fine, I guess. Not that I care. He's a creepy bloke."

"I want to leave," Harry muttered as he laid down his head.

"Sorry?"

"-To Hogwarts."

"Just a few more days, Harry," Ron comforted him, nuzzling himself under his fine sheets. "You're not really talkative, Harry. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Ron," Harry replied, somewhat too harsh. He closed his eyes. Hoping the days would pass.


	7. Rogue

"We are going home," Harry smiled as he brushed his fingers down Hedwig her feathers. "We are finally going home again." Though Harry's time off was no bad deal, according to the fun things he'd done with his friends, yet Hogwarts was the only place he could really feel like home. Just as he finished stuffing his last belongings in his trunk, he wrinkled his brows – hearing a knocking noise on one of the windows. As he walked on over – pulling the hems of the curtains to open them swiftly – he stood eye to eye with an eagle owl, his shaded feathers reflecting by the fluttering sun. He held tight to a letter, clamped in his beak, and looked judgemental for not opening the window already. Harry looked around, wondering where he came from, and pulled the squeaky hinge to open the window at last. Slowly extending his arm, trying to fetch the letter as slowly as possible, he strained eye contact – seeing the murderous glance on the bird as if it was ready to eat his whole hand as a light snack. Luckily the bird appeared to be completely harmless, and flew off as soon as the parchment clamped between Harry's fingers.

Rogue, it said on the front. Harry wrinkled his nose, trailing backwards as he closed off the window, trying to find his bed with the back of his legs. Ron was downstairs already, and so he was alone. Flipping it, he saw it was sealed with a Malfoy's wax stamp, dark and leaked – as if it was stamped with a rush with just a simple various D scrabbled on the inner corner of the envelope as soon as he snapped it open.

"I need to see speak to you today. Meet me in the train after we arrive a.s.a.p.

Come alone. No bullshitting me.

Draco"

Harry's teeth clenched together, sweat nearly dripping down his brows as he stared at the badly erased word – still visible. His stomach was twisting, and though a nauseous fulfilled him, the corners of his mouth curled up a little if just for a split seconds. His palms were sweaty, quickly stuffing the envelope deep into his pocket.

Ginny called. She stood on her toes, softly knocking on the solid wood of the door – afraid to interrupt Harry's business. "Harry, we are leaving. Are you ready to go?"

Harry quickly hopped off his bed, grabbing his trunk along with Hedwig sleeping in her cage – trying not to wake her along the way.

"Could you open?" he replied as he dragged his stuff along. Ginny pushed open the door, stepping aside to let him through.

"Excited?" Ginny blushed as she took Hedwig's cage for a help.

"More than ever," Harry smiled, showing off his teeth as he began to move down the stairs.

They arrived quickly at station. Ron, hopping excited on his feet, took the first opportunity of approaching Platform 9¾ and searched down the platform – hoping to find the blonde again. Hermione, on the other hand, remained quite quiet. A modest smile decorated her hidden face, and she held on to Harry's arm as if they were a married couple. However, this was just to get some information plucked out of him. "Feeling any better, now we are finally here again?"

Harry batted his eyes, smiling as they walked over towards the Hogwarts express on a slow pass. "Much," he replied as he threw her a look. "I've missed it. Though I really appreciate the Weasley's hospitality, I think – for now – Hogwarts is the only place I can really call home."

"Understood," Hermione nodded – struggling to get on the train with her luggage balancing on its wheels. Harry gave her a hand. Looking back and forth, he hoped to get a sneak preview of his white-haired enemy, but unfortunate. He wasn't around. Eventually, finding a fine spot next to Ron – who planted his ass next to the girl he'd been stalking for days – he waited for their journey to start. He was nervous. Very nervous.

A rendezvous.


	8. I can't

They drove the entire way through the hills with their eyes heavy. Though Ron tried his upper best to impress the blonde, only a couple of giggles managed to escape the girl's throat before she left to meet her friends a few cabins away. Hermione was reading, her eyebrows wrinkled like they were used to whenever she was concentrated – and Ron fell asleep as soon as he neatly planted his head against the window.

The note burned on the inside of his pocket. Should he tell Hermione about this? If just about the note and their meeting at Borgin and Burkes. He batted his eyes, staring down at his roughly patched hands and nails. Hermione lowered her book, lifting one of her eyebrows – curious but judgemental.

"Harry," she began as she leaned over. "Tell me what's wrong. Normally you are not as quiet. I'm worrying about you, alright?"

Harry tried to avoid any eye contact, but knew he couldn't escape from her motherly grip. Besides, she was one of his best friends. He couldn't lie, nor hold back. Yet, he knew he wouldn't be able to speak out the whole truth – knowing he barely knew what it was all about himself.

"It's about Draco. Something happened between us, and I can't stop thinking about it. I don't think I can trust him. I mean, do I ever?"

Hermione raised her brows, surprised but confused – barely knowing what on earth he was talking about. "Eh, wait. What?"

"We had a fight," Harry replied. "For some reason it has been haunting me for months, knowing I'm not like that. But it felt good." He looked at the sloping landscape, trying to keep his mind from trailing off.

"I knew it," Hermione replied – shaking her head. "You've been so aggressive and absent lately. I understand how invigorating this can be... Or well I don't, it's probably a boyish thing, but you..." She clenched her teeth together. "Stop the fighting. Or whatever you are up to. Malfoy is a foul person, we all know that, but that doesn't mean you have to lower yourself to his level. If we are lucky, he'll get suspended one day giving us a reason to have a great party." She chuckled to herself – placing a hand on Harry's knee. "Don't worry about it. If Draco is planning on fighting you again, I know for a fact you will win. Besides, what a surprise. I never knew Draco had it in him."

Harry scoffed softly, finally meeting her eyes again, and granted her a modest, grateful smile. "Me neither," he replied. "It was just a couple of punches. After that I scared him off." Liar.

The people were leaking out rapidly after they arrived at Hogwarts. Trunks and cages clattered against the obstacles around, and heavy chitchatting allowed the day to bloom with life and joy – now everyone was once again united with their friends. Hogwarts would always be there to welcome people home. Though Hermione's suspiciousness almost cost Harry his head, he managed to shake them off – telling them he'd lost something on his way in. Swiftly moving through the counters, afraid he wouldn't be on time, he wriggled himself through the last passing students making their way out – Harry his eyes strongly fixated on every end of his way. As soon as he arrived at the well-known Slytherin area, he took a deep breath before he entered. His heart pounded against his chest – his head spinning and his palms sweaty, afraid for whatever could come.

"Potter," Draco spoke – his voice surprisingly soft. He remained seated, his hands folded together as he sat bend-over. "You came."

Harry softly closed the sliding door, resulting for Draco to swiftly flick his wand so the awnings fell down with a noise – granting them privacy.

"I was curious," Harry replied. He didn't dare to approach him. Though he rarely felt out of space, right now he really couldn't find his comfort zone. What was he doing?

What were they doing?


	9. Your King

Draco looked up at him – his attitude confident, steady but calm. Like he had it all planned out. Harry, on the other hand, balanced on his feet – his heartbeat rising at the sight of his enemy. He took slow steps, his eyes scanning around to see if they were really alone like he told him. He would never be able to trust him. Not while he could think of their past. Draco was a foul, sneaky guy whom only thought about himself.

"What do you want," Harry spoke as he stood just a couple of feet away. "You wished to speak to me."

Draco granted him a brief smile, and shook his head as he repositioned himself on his seat. He was well dressed, as usual. Wearing a black suit and shiny shoes – his dark tie neatly tied around his neck. His blouse all buttoned up. "Well spotted," Draco replied as he rubbed his fine hands together. "Tell me how you have been doing."

Harry cocked his head, frowning deeply. Was he asked to come for a silly chitchat? Like he could care. His wand hidden in the sleeve of his jumper, he wrinkled its hem between his fingers – nervous, no matter the circumstances.

"Seriously?" he replied suspiciously. "Just tell me what you are up to. I've got things to do, alright?"

Draco finally moved his ass, getting up at last, and approached him. Their eyes meeting along the way. "Friendly approaching is not appreciated, I see..." He wetted his lips and shook his head, tightening his blazer around his body. "I wanted to talk about the upcoming school year. I expect no nonsense?"

Harry scuffed. "No nonsense? You are the girl here. Your childish behaviour is well known between the halls of Hogwarts. I expected you to ruin us, if that's what you're afraid of. My lips are sealed." He still didn't have the guts to ask for an explanation of what happened that day.

"You are the one trying to shine your ass of in the spotlights," Draco replied airy.

"Well, you're a prick," Harry snapped as he turned his back on him. "Besides, I didn't ask for any of this."

Draco wrinkled his nose by annoyance. "Of course you didn't," he mocked. "The famous Potter. A legend. And for what?"

"You seem jealous," Harry replied – his eyebrows raising. He could enjoy this.

"Fuck off," Draco scowled – his fist hitting the wooden wall behind him. "I'm so fucking done with your bullshit. Why you? You aren't special. Yes, you survived, but in return you allowed your friends to die. That's not legendary. It's fucking selfish, and I'm done with the praising."

Harry batted his eyes, avoiding any eye contact, and gritted his teeth as Draco's judgemental attitude fulfilled him. "Well maybe you should quit the wining and do something about it." Harry clenched his fists, ready to give him a punch, and approached him slowly – his nose ready to touch his. Their breaths stuck onto each other, but nothing happened yet. "Make my day," he continued. "You weak piece of shit."

"It's your burden," Draco replied surprisingly clam – though his teeth were on edge. "I simply hope they'll see what kind of fraud you are."

Draco brushed his fingers down his chin, and took his black briefcase – ready to leave the train, knowing this had been a bad idea. He quickly loosened the tie, shame taking over him, and took his first step to leave. "Get your balls out off your ass, Potter."

Harry gritted his teeth, his lips turning into a sour line, and before Draco managed to pass his arm length, he gave him a push – causing Draco to topple over and drop his case in vain.

"Let's deal with this," Harry breathed as he allowed his wand to slide down his sleeve into his hand. He quickly pointed at him, biting his tongue to keep himself from exploding. "Get up," he demanded. "Get up and grab your wand."

Draco pushed himself off the ground, his tie hanging on his shoulder, and his hair messed up. "Fine," Draco barked as he took his wand. He took a deep breath, pointing out at his enemy, and readied himself to give it a go. However, Harry decided to ignore the rules, and cursed out a spell giving Draco no opportunity to defensive himself.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry stretched out his arm, catching Draco's wand as his enemy clattered against the walls and floor. "Not so sharp, are you?"

Draco moaned as he struggled to get up. "I'm bleeding," he squeaked as he wiped his palm along his brow. "Argh, I'm fucking bleeding." He hissed and cursed under his breath, leaving Harry in shock as their eyes met. Why was he acting so horrid?

He slowly walked up to his blonde, crouching in front of him – ready to give him a hand. "Just stay out of my way, alright?"

Draco didn't reply. He could only look at him, full of hatred as the red substance ran down his cheekbone.

"I'll be your King," Draco simply replied, a smug smile crossing his lips.


	10. It's complicated

"Blimey Harry," a voice interrupted from behind. Ron stood there, Hermione at his side holding his arm tight. Hagrid tried his best to wiggle his body inside, but couldn't come any further but sticking his head between the entrance.

"Get out of my way," another voice snarled, apparently being Professor Snape's. Hermione pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to keep her breath in, and stepped aside – letting Snape in without another word. Harry was screwed, whatever he'd done. Draco lifted his chin full of triumph, and bared his teeth with joy.

"He couldn't hold it in, the psycho he is."

"Shut it," Professor Snape hissed – slowing his moves. "You," he muttered, his icy glare and bony index-finger pointing at Harry who slowly crawled up from his former position. "Not even a foot planted behind the walls of Hogwarts, and you decide to pick up a fight. You two are coming with me."

"Harry," Hermione whispered as she slowly shook her head. "You silly goose."

"Fine," Harry gritted through his teeth, his fists still clenched.

"Harry, what have you done?" Ron muttered baffled – Hermione still holding onto him.

"It's complicated," he simply replied as Snape pinched his arm and pulled Draco to stand up.

"Great," Snape muttered. "I love complicated..."

Harry couldn't speak anymore, seeing his friends their worry washing over him. Draco simply showed off a smug, faded smile – knowing he was in bare trouble within the hands of his headmaster. Harry, on the other hand, was completely screwed – always being punished by the one person who he hated the most, and vice versa. Draco snatched his wand back, ready to spit out a curse, but got tamed by a slap against the back of his head.

"You are in trouble too," Snape replied, his glare cold and merciless.

"Excuse me?" Draco spilled with his voice high-pitched. "I am the victim here."

"Surely," Snape replied, his pointy nose creating more darkness than any of the window blinds. "You should be punished for your lack of self-defence. Look at yourself. Pathetic you are."

Ron threw a glance at Hermione, barely able to keep his laugh in, and both followed Hagrid who gestured them to come out of the train and follow. Obviously they had to get out now too, and continue their normal business while their other musketeer was being punished a heartless soul.

"Off ye' go," Hagrid muttered as he softly pushed them forward. "He'll be fine ye 'no? Nothin' to worry about-"

Harry and Draco were later put in Professor Snape his office. No cup of tea to ease their nervous tummies, nor a tap on the shoulder – or a warm welcome home. They were sitting next to each other. Draco was obviously offended now his own headmaster decided to keep him here, and Harry seemed to be braindead. He stared ahead of him, his hands lightly folded, as if he was waiting for a train to arrive – or took his time to take a proper shit.

"It's all your fault," Draco muttered as he rubbed his forehead. "It's always your fault."

"I recommend you to shut your mouth-hole. You already ruined my mood."

Funny, how Professor Snape trusted Harry to stay well seated without peaking into any of his personal stuff. Obviously he was bound to keep his hands to himself, knowing Draco Malfoy was the greatest snitch of all time.

"Wait until my father hears about this," Draco spit, his expression turning more sour at the minute. Harry could only sigh, knowing Draco's words were like the same old song.

"You are a coward, you know," Harry muttered – staring at his hand. "I know you feel it."

"What?"

Harry looked at him, trying his best to swallow – his voice raw and shaky.

"This."

Draco's expression softened, only now realizing they were holding hands the entire time – squeezing out their anger, their palms sweaty at their touch.


	11. Illuminated

"So what are we going to do?" Harry muttered, his back stiff and his body still moist by the cold sweat running down his spine. "We are possibly going to be expelled."

Draco pulled his tie, trying to loosen it, and swiftly opened the top two buttons of his blouse in fear of suffocation. His steps were quick and measured – as if he didn't want to be seen by any of his classmates. Or worse. As if he didn't want to see himself – afraid for his own shadow that followed.

"I want you to leave me alone," Draco gasped as his blonde hair stuck against his sweaty forehead. "Go!"

Harry lowered his pass, slowly nearing a stand, and frowned his brows by utter confusion. "Just tell me what you want from me, Malfoy. School has only just started, and you decided to contact me."

"I want you to go!" he shouted – his breath irregular. "My father is going to kill me," his voice betrayed his worries. He was scared. If his father found out about this, not only Harry would be dangling on a string, but Draco too. How disgraceful it was to come out defenseless – a shame for his family. His bloodline.

"Leave!"

Draco's voice had never been so dark and raw before. As if he was changing. Taking a whole other form. Harry stumbled on his feet, his chest heavy and his lungs cramping. Why the sudden distance now they seemed to feed on each other's shame? Wasn't this what they were aiming for? Nutrition for their desperate and lost souls? Harry gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he turned his back on him, and scoffed.

"You won't get far, pal. You are ruining yourself."

Draco pressed his lips into a sour line, as if he was in true pain, and ripped his eyes off him. "It was an experiment," he spilled, his voice shaky – barely fed with confidence, yet a cry of laughter escaped his throat. "And as I thought..."

Harry glanced over his shoulder, his jaws clenched – his lips slightly pursed.

"You are ready to do anything if just for a little bit of attention, or appreciation. Even from me. No matter how fucking queer the requirements." Draco brushed his thumb along his lower lip, almost as if he relived their first encounter – tasting Harry's blood on his tongue. Harry decided to make his way to wherever his safe haven could be, and snorted – trying his best to run away from his own fears.

"I see you," Draco muttered, his voice low. Scary, how his voice managed to haunt him through the halls, no matter how fast he walked.

"Sooner or later the others will too..."


	12. Neville

It had been two weeks. Two weeks of walking into his friends their footsteps. He was nervous and afraid – knowing Draco held on to critical information that could destroy him. Harry couldn't afford himself to walk alone through these halls again. Not now he'd been encountering severe loneliness in his past. People couldn't believe him, that time his name got spilled out of the goblet of fire. They didn't want to believe him, how Voldemort made his return. And still many people doubted his sanity to this day.

Ever since his fight with Draco, Hermione and Ron were acting highly unusual. Not only because Hermione seemed to be clutched against his arm, but also because of their bad excuses – probably to get rid of him. Harry tried to find himself company between the shelves of the library, but couldn't find joy in reading any of his picked out books. Hermione was known for making the library a better place – knowing he could count on her whenever they had a test. He would mostly sit at a desk, Ronald at his side, drawing offensive creatures representing awful teachers while Hermione sighed and puffed at the books she'd been reading a hundred times.

Now he sat alone, his arms creating a wall around his parchment – scrabbled with terrible humourless characters he used to cry about with his other half, Ron.

"Harry," a voice interrupted the sky. "Is it true?"

Harry slowly lifted his chin, his head heavy. It was Neville, approaching him with some kind of plant drooling against his chest.

"Cheers," Harry muttered, his face full of disgust. Terrible, how he graved great care for the most hideous looking creatures – thus only plants. Neville seemed to find some kind of interest in Harry's disgusted expression, and so he couldn't keep himself from forgetting the original subject, and beginning to rant over his weird ass cactus.

'This is a Mimbulus Mimbletonia. It's a very rare-"

"Is what true, Neville?" Harry raised his brows curiously, pretending to search through the pages of the book he pretended to read. Neville seemed to be out of breath, and steadied himself against Harry's desk, shaking his head as he put his "plant-thing" down.

"You and Malfoy?"

Harry couldn't breathe. His cheeks fluttered bright red, and his book became of sudden interest. "Sorry, wh-what? Malfoy?" He scoffed, avoiding any eye contact. "What about him?" He couldn't afford it to speak out the word us.

"Are you two really..."

"-Gay?" Harry scoffed once more, shutting his book with great force. He could barely breath.

"What?" Neville laughed nervously. "No. Dueling. Friday night?"

Harry shook his head, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and take a deep breath again. "Not that I know of," he replied. "Who told you that?"

"A group of Slytherins. They are outside. They obviously didn't tell me..." He batted his eyes defeated; knowing no one ever would, and thumbed the tip of his tongue along his chapped lips. "Malfoy seems very confident about it. I shouldn't go if I were you."

"Of course you wouldn't, Neville."

Harry quickly gathered his stuff, gritting his teeth together as he allowed his single book to fly back to its original spot. "I need to find Ron and Hermione. Have you seen 'em?"

"Eh," Neville took his plant back in his arms, and shrugged.

"You've been of great value, Neville," Harry replied surprisingly uplifted – tapping his shoulder as he left.

"Sure?" Neville replied – full of relieve.

Who knew what Harry was up to?


	13. Slyther in

Harry rushed through the hallways like a ghost – unseen and swiftly, almost like his feet barely touched the ground. He took a moment to rest when he was near the main hall – his cheeks fluttered red by adrenaline and ecstasy. He had to find Malfoy. He had to know what he was up to. Hearing a familiar giggle, he clamped himself against the nearest wall – hiding in a corner to stay hidden. Hermione and Ron came around, both giggling – innocence drooling off their faces.

"When will we tell?" Ron muttered – his white lashes covering his olive eyes. Hermione clacked the heels of her shoes against the tiles, shaking her head – allowing her brown curls to cover her peachy cheeks. "Soon," she replied softly. "Harry will notice, sooner or later."

Harry frowned, deeply encouraged to do some more eavesdropping – knowing his friends were hiding something, if just for him. Where they in love? Perfect, he muttered to himself – they ecstasy was gone. He would be a third wheel from now on. However, something as small as that couldn't care for now. Besides, it would be a benefit. Hermione and Ron running off together, every once in a while – to do whatever they had to do... This meant he would have some time of his own. Precious minutes, ready to be spilled. Malfoy would be his project, for now. School could hardly keep him busy, knowing his head wandered off into clouds every now and then. First he had to know what it meant. What they meant. And how they could fix it. Draco, floating around his head like radiowaves. He couldn't concentrate. Malfoy seemed to have created another way of approaching him. Sending messages around, through the walls, giving him hints. It even seemed like he managed to slither into his dreams. Though Harry could find this hardly unpleasant, for some kind of odd reason, it did keep him awake at night. If not in cold sweat, it would be by utter excitement – ready to ask for more. There was something up with this blonde-haired boy, and he had to know what. Hoping to find him outside, leaning against a tree, sitting on the grass – hopefully on his own – but in vain. He wasn't there.

"Seamus," Harry shouted, approaching his fellow student with a smile. "Seamus- Tell me you've seen Malfoy in the last five minutes."

"Ready for another strike, ye? I'd say, watch out. It might cost ye' head."

"Seamus. Malfoy. Where is he?"

Seamus simply shrugged, lifting his backpack to steady it back on his shoulder. "Like I care?"

Harry clenched his fists, yet granted him a thankful nod. Exactly knowing where to find him at last. If he just thought about it sooner...

The room of requirements.


	14. "Requirements"

Harry's heart skipped a beat with ever further approach he made. How could he have been so dull? It was a sign. Draco Malfoy was trying his upper best to enter his mind, to manipulate his dreams, and give him hints about their future meeting. There had to be something he wanted to say. Though Malfoy tried to keep his distance, he could feel his presence. He could feel him – touching him, watching him. Harry's obsession grew stronger to the day, and he wanted to know where he was. Where they were. Either Draco became one of the Dark Lord's spies, or something else was going on - something much stronger and more powerful. A bound. A connection. In whatever way possible.

Excitement caused his breathing to become irregular. He could hear the walls moving. Talking to him. Opening a whole other world. Another room. He was standing in the Hall of Hexes. The seventh floor in the left corridor of the Hogwarts castle. Harry closed his eyes, pausing his walk to speak out his desires – screaming them out in his head. Anxious for what would come. Malfoy was dangerous. Many told him so.

The doors opened in front of him once he opened his eyes. The crackling sound of stones grinding and changing position echoed through the halls, leaving Harry almost exposed – if anyone was the approach him soon. As the passage became all clear to go through, he made the smallest steps he could afford, making his way through the portal – allowing the wall to enclose him at once. The room was soundless. He was in the room of hidden things. He couldn't believe his eyes, finding objects he'd never encountered before. Closets, trophies, piles of books reaching up to the ceiling – wobbling to make the passage too dangerous. This castle would always be a majestic place full of secrets. How amazing, finding out different secrets each time. He wanted to stay here for a while. He wanted to go through the boxes stored with statues, kettles, tools. Who knew what was kept hidden here? A shuffling sound caused Harry to turn immediately. Birds flew above his head, creating spirals and layers of dust to move. He coughed, holding his hand in front of his mouth and nose as he narrowed his eyes – his glasses not fully protecting him now. "Malfoy?" he hissed as he arced his back, moving through a path of old mirrors. "Malfoy, I know you're in here. It's why the passage opened itself. Is this what you want?" He gritted his teeth together, holding a statue that was ready to fall down on him. "A game of hide and seek..." Harry sighed, the level of annoyance was raising once more, and he couldn't believe he'd fallen for this. A simple game of mind fuck. How long was this going to take? When would Draco be done with this? With their awkward experience, and whatnot. How could this still linger them two? Sexual adventures were standard once growing up. Probably half of the school encountered homosexual experiences, if it wasn't just for almost all of the girls. But not Hermione. Hermione would never kiss anyone – to Harry's believes.

"There you are," a familiar voice cut through. Harry turned, seeing Draco's reflection in a few of the mirrors. Their eye contact wasn't secured. In fact, he wasn't even sure whether he was looking at a reflection, an illusion, or a real person. "I thought you fled," Harry commented – lifting his chin almost victoriously. "I knew you were here. You've been trying to get inside my head." Harry flinched at a hand on his shoulder, and threw a glance – meeting Draco's face rather near. "I am proud," Draco replied – his voice light yet somewhat damaged. "It took you long, Potter." His normal attitude showed itself. "I want to know where I'm at," Harry muttered as he followed Draco's movements impatiently. Draco circled around him, a piano started to play in distance, and Harry raised his brow in return. "I am not really in a dating mood, if you don't mind."

"We are at the room of hidden things," Draco continued, as a reply on his former question. He was trying to be a smart ass. "I mean were are we at. What do you want?"

"I want you to think," Draco replied – his eyes fixated on his. The piano took a pause every time he spoke, and a breeze of cold air caused Harry's back to shiver. "Think about?"

Draco's movements stopped. The clacking sound of his shoes echoing stopped. Harry's heartbeat became almost audible through the entire space, and his breathing stopped. "Please, just tell me what you want."

Draco didn't reply. He simply looked at him, his eyes blank and empty. He didn't speak. He simply looked at him. The piano stopped, and shoulders found ease. Was he giving up? Only because Harry refused to understand his pointless plans and riddles?

"I want you to think and believe I am making the right decision." Draco still looked at him, his chest moved smoothly. He seemed calm, and confident. Harry, on the other hand, could hardly breathe – and found it hard to cope with whatever was going on. "What decision?" Harry asked rather confused. He wasn't easily caught off guard, having the history of dealing with great suffering and straitened situations. "This," Draco replied – approaching him full of confidence.


	15. Ecstasy

Harry narrowed his eyes, turning his shoulders maybe forty-five degrees as he lowered his chin – ready to cash a punch. It simply had to be a punch. It should've been his devilish mind, causing him the most unusual figments of all time. But it was no punch.

Draco crushed his lips onto his - his fingers sliding through Harry's hair, eagerly searching for handhold. Harry stumbled, his elbows knocking over several piles of books and vases – clattering all over the floor, echoing through the enlarged room. Though pulling back would be the most reasonable thing to do, Harry didn't. Full surrender he leaned into the blonde's kiss – his chapped lips embracing his, wanting to taste Draco's breath on his tongue. For far too long they had been circling around each other. Their minds and bodies connected from afar. Though nothing seemed to be permitted, Harry couldn't care. Now being alone, buried between a dozen of lost things, he simply couldn't. It seemed like a dream. Their bodies full of ecstasy wrestling as they pulled each other's hair – their tongues entwining as they gasped for breath in between. It seemed like they were running a marathon. As if they were meant to finish within fifteen seconds before anyone would write them out.

Once their kiss made it to an end, they both stumbled back – the backs of their hands brushing along their lips, wiping off each other's saliva. Draco looked at him, his eyes spitting fire – as if Harry was to blame, and he didn't like it. Harry avoided any eye contact. Though their kiss was short but firm, he felt rather ashamed – no matter the sweetness of Draco's lips, and the secret desire for more.

"And?" Draco asked after a snort. Harry bowed his head, unable to speak – for he didn't understand what he was asking for.

"Did I make the right decision?" Draco's eyes were awfully widened – his hair roughly patched to the sides. Harry established himself – leaning onto the dresser to his right, finally able to look at his company. Though the answer would've been unsure to many, Harry knew he made the right decision. It was after all what they most desired - the both of them. Nevertheless Harry didn't answer. Not yet at least. Draco straightened his back, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his cotton white shirt – causing him to almost choke by adrenaline rushing through his bloody veins. "Please," Draco muttered, his throat sore by the filthy air he breathed.

"Perhaps," Harry answered pensively. It seemed as if he had something to prove. Though lovers wasn't the way he would describe them, there was a certain kind of lust – befouling the air, causing their lungs to cramp as they met.

"What are you going for, Malfoy?" He looked at him, his eyes filled with what seemed disappointment. "Is this a twisted way of getting back at me? For whatever I have done to you?"

Draco looked up at him loosening his tie. "Never," he simply replied – wrinkling his nose as he did. "I'm simply trying to understand the flair about you."

"Will we do this again?" Harry muttered without any realization. The blonde looked at him at instance – mesmerized. With great hesitation, he cocked his head – blinking, as if he seemed unsure of whatever to answer. "Yes, I think we will..."

Harry forced himself to stand straight, his eyes locked – reaching for every feature of Draco's body, as if he was afraid he would miss them after tonight. "Should we go back?"

The blonde shrugged. The both of them seemed to be rather defeated. Confused by their gathering. He wanted to understand him, Harry repeated in his head. Whatever that meant.

After a moment of silence, Harry gritted his teeth – wanting to leave, if just to break the dreadful silence causing his head to spin. Their distance was small, causing Harry to bring up desires barely knew of. He had to leave. He couldn't make a fool out of himself now.

"Tell me what you want," Draco muttered – titling his head, his shoulder tensed. He was a lion. Harry cleared his throat, suddenly not as cheeky anymore. "I'm going to bed," he simply replied – his voice as light as air, laced by softness. "It's been most fun," he continued – almost sarcastically. Whatever they were doing, they were doing it wrong.

"We've only just started," Draco called as Harry made his way towards the exit. Harry clenched his jaws, annoyed by his weak encouragement to stay, and shook his head. "Go to bed, Malfoy. You're taking a piss."


	16. Becoming you

Harry made his leaving as quick as possible – almost afraid to look back, as if he thought to see it had all been a simple illusion. Though it wasn't even near nighttime yet, he claimed to go to bed anyways. If just to forget about what happened – for good. As both swallowing and breathing became almost impossible, he loosened his tie as well. With swift, tugging moves he pulled his buttons to open his cardigan, and with great hurry he rushed through the halls. He wanted to make his way up to the seventh floor – ready to hop into his dorms and vanish for the night. It was only then, right before meeting the painting on the wall, he saw Hermione and Ron standing to the side. They were kissing. Their lips touching, gasping for breath – hungrily – at every twist they made. Their eagerly grabbed for more, tugging their clothes as they went. Hermione groaned at Ron's touch, a smile tugging her lips as Ron made his way down her neck – characters making their way from their paintings, if just to snatch on ether one of them. It was almost sickening, how Harry stood there watching his best friends making out – he being the third wheel again. Standing there, Harry froze. His stomach twisting by jealousy; seeing the innocent bursting out of them. He wanted that too. He wanted to experience the same harmless, secret lovemaking. He wanted to be a part of it. Hermione, finally opening her eyes as Ron harked his teeth along the skin of her neck, spotted Harry on the stairs. She gasped for breath, unwell by the caught – and Harry stood there.

"Harry," Hermione called – ashamed by the way he found out. Ron couldn't look at him. Without looking he buried his face deep beneath Hermione's curls, kissing her shoulder in disguise. Hermione shook her head, but couldn't stop smiling - no matter the shame. Harry made his way, his breathing irregular as he rushed down the stairs – back towards the sixth floor, determined at last. Feeling betrayed and left out by the way they decided to keep their love a secret, he wished to seek redemption. Rushing back towards that famous hall – the location of the room of requirements – he closed his eyes. He set his thoughts to whatever he wished, and walked.

The sound of stones clattering made him open his eyes. Ready to vanish in one of the rooms, he rolled up his sleeves. Malfoy came out first – whom surely didn't expect to see Harry again.

"Potter," Malfoy stated surprised – a smug smile appearing on his flawless feature. Harry wrinkled his nose – his eyes shooting fire – and pushed Draco back in. "Hands off," Draco hissed – his judging eyes popping out. "I swear I wasn't taking a piss on you."

"Shut the fuck up," Harry muttered as he walked in as well – the doors closing behind them. Harry's breathing sped up, and though Draco's nervous attitude, he remained in a resolute and determined manner.

Walking up to him he took off his cardigan – his eyes locked onto his, as if ready to attack. Draco was trapped - his back now touching the surface of a large object he couldn't identify. Though fear seemed to spill from the blonde's eyes, he seemed to realize what was about to happen. And Draco walked back up to him – his wand held within the sleeve of his blouse. "Don't talk," Harry muttered right before he took his jaws between his hands. Draco gave a brief nod, their eyes slumbering during their approach, and Harry kissed him once more.

After seeing his two best friends together, enjoying exploring each other's bodies; finding joy by each others touch – something simply snapped. Harry could barely afford any joy. His life had been a rollercoaster the very moment his mother gave birth to him – and he needed more than that. He wanted to feel alive. No matter the times he cheated death, no one could compare their lives to his. No one could ever call his youth a childhood. Death lingered inside the palms of his sweaty hands, and all his loved ones were a necessary meant to end.

Brushing his fingers along the hems of Draco's jacket, he pushed it off his shoulders. Draco hesitated, expecting their kisses to go as far as a pair of lips could go, but Harry wanted more. He wanted to investigate the blonde's body, and hark his teeth along his skin. He wanted to feel him; to take him whole, and breathe him. His fingers grasped the blonde his locks, and his lips trailed down to his jawline. Though many words could've been used for the rush that caused his head to spin, bliss came closest. A whirlwind of emotions made his body shiver. And by Merlin's beard, he felt alive at last.

His lips groped down to Malfoy's neck – and at last, he gave in. Draco took his turn now. He twisted his fingers around Harry's blouse – eagerly pulling it off his body as if he disarmed him from a bomb, buttons clattering to the ground like shattered glass. Growling at each other's touch, they moved through the room – one of Draco's hands scanning as they kissed, hoping to find something to lean on. He wanted more, for now he was King, and there was no turning back. "What are we doing?" Malfoy muttered once pushing Harry down onto an old desk. Harry grabbed Draco's collar – looking at him, confused, possessed, careless. "I have no idea." Draco shook his head in return, knowing just as much as he did, and looked at him before kissing him again. It made his heart die, thinking how he would displease his father by these actions; and yet, even though Draco had severe daddy issues, he bit down the boy's lower lip in vain – for all didn't matter anymore. Harry's heart skipped a beat, amazed by the discovery of pleasance, and pulled Draco closer by the very edge of his trousers. Though sexual arousing barely crossed his mind, this seemed to come close. His belly filling with a pleasant kind of sickness resulted him to take over the situation. Pulling the blonde close, his glasses fogging, he buried his face in his neck.

"Lay down and scoot over," Draco muttered in between their kisses. Harry frowned, yet followed his orders, and lay down by the length of the desk – forced to interrupt their kiss. Draco looked at him, hopped on too, lying down next to Harry – their shoulders touching. The ecstasy seemed

"What are you feeling?" Harry muttered – once finding himself at ease.

"I have way too many feelings," Draco replied. Harry shuddered at the cold of the oakwooden desk pressed against his back, and placed one of his arms underneath his head – his feet tapping against the side. "You don't regret it, do you?" Harry wondered as his eyes were locked to the ceiling. Draco smiled, shaking his head – rather uncharacteristic for him.

"Why did you come back?"

"Because I want to get to know you?"

Draco scoffed, hardly believing the crap spilling from his tongue. "Now be real," he basically demanded – wishing for the truth.

"Because I simply want you. No bloody feelings attached."

Draco turned his head, Harry getting his fullest attention. A chemistry swung around like radiowaves, ready to be picked up, and their lips burned by their former make out. Draco pushed himself up – his tie hanging back over his shoulder, his hair ruffled and his blouse tugged. He looked sloppy – for the very first time. Harry looked at him, shameless, as if his confession wasn't strange by a bit.

"You'll be dead, if anyone finds out."

Harry gave him a nod – his arm locking around Malfoy's neck – pulling him closer into a kiss. The night was still young, and hell they weren't ready to leave yet.


	17. Ready

Once the realization came there was no solid light source around, Harry grabbed his wand and flicked it – using Lumos, if just to find the flaws on the edges of Draco's skin. They both narrowed their eyes. Their lips burned after kissing for approximately half an hour, and the both of them noticed the happenings inside their own pants. The tension caused their teeth on edge. The eager to curse at each other became stronger every minute – if just by the way they seemed so used to. Never they could have thought for this to happen. The both of them, laying down onto a desk – shirtless, investigating each other's body, though their lower parts were still forbidden area. Harry suppressed the sensation boiling in his abdomen. The tip of his tongue rushed along the edges of Malfoy's teeth as he twisted his head, hands full of hair forcing the blonde to come closer. Their legs were interlocked. Malfoy on top, the tip of his nose brushing against Harry's cheekbone as he begged for more – his lips doing the talking without a sound.

"We can't stay here," Harry spoke as he pulled back – his hands shoving upwards Malfoy's chest.

"Why not?" Draco seemed rather disappointed. His always porcelain pale face burst with a colour possible to be called "ravish me red", and his lips were swollen.

"Because we've got to go to bed?" Harry raised his brows, surprised by his remarkable question, and he pushed him off. Draco turned his back on him, scratching his chest, fumbling his neck – unaware of the amount of hickeys. "We can sleep here?" Draco suggested. Harry scoffed.

"We will be missed," Harry muttered as he got off the desk – suddenly not as frisky anymore. His energy was lacking, and his mood had dropped. He felt no longer the need of kissing another, and for all he knew he simply wanted to take a bath – and perhaps clean his mouth with a pint of butterbeer.

"So that's it?" Draco muttered as he looked at the brunette's back. "We are going to pretend like nothing ever happened?"

Harry fetched his blouse from the floor – along with his other missing uniform parts. "That is what you wanted?" Harry straightened his back – noticing the buttons missing from his shirt – and cursed under his breath.

"Yeah," Draco replied, his voice soft – his throat being sore. "Get your shit, we've got to go, Potter." Malfoy transformed again. His former attitude creating for him to be the greatest ass again, and Harry couldn't stand it.

"Calm down, damnit."

Draco tore his eyes off him. A massive amount of anger resulted for his muscles to tense, and for a split second he was about to grant Harry a massive punch – if just to punish him for his blindness. "Oh come on, you love the attention."

Harry raised a brow, cocking his head as he snorted. "Excuse me? Don't ever think all this has given you the reason to call me your bitch; if that's what you're implying."

"Your fire is ever so burning for me," Draco mocked him, pointing out at the still active Lumos spell. Harry shook his head, tapping his wand against his knee – if it would extinguish any quicker. "Nox," Harry muttered in a hurry – tying his cardigan around his waist.

"Stay with me," Draco called as Harry slumbered his way towards the door exit. "If just for tonight?"

Harry came to a pause. His wand lingered in his right hand, and he took a breath – reconsidering the situation, it seemed. "To do what?" he asked not persuaded just yet.

"I don't know, Potter. Just tell me whether you'll stay or not!"

Harry shrugged – his eyes rolling right before he turned his torso back to his to make his way back to the blonde.

"Are you ready?"

It was going to be a dreadful night.


	18. Love the attention

"Motherfu..." Harry groaned as he managed to open his eyes. The room he was in was dark. His glasses were nowhere to be found, and the surface he'd been sleeping on was rock solid. Rubbing his eyes, he hoped to get a better view – perhaps he could find his glasses by touch. Something alive laid to his side, a dash of white jumped up as his eyes managed to adjust – but nothing was clear enough to identify. Once finding his glasses – located a couple of feet afar – he got up from the ground to scan the area. Funny, how he seemed to have forgotten about the way he fell asleep here, last night. His eyes got caught by the white blur laying afar from him, and after crouching down, he recognized the person immediately. Thinking for it to have been a dream, his heart skipped a beat – reality dropping in like a bomb. After creating a certain distance between his enemy, his memory rushed back like a train. It was like he'd been drunk of lust the other night. Blinded by hate by the deceit of his dearest friends, he sought for salvation. And Malfoy was there to give it to him. Malfoy remained sleeping – both of their cardigans spread over his body to keep him warm. Nothing happened that night, beside their make out sessions. The night continued with arguments, ignorance, and mocking comments – though none of them left. Remarkable. It made no sense.

Hangover by Draco's touch, he hobbled around – wondering what time it was; whether he missed breakfast, whether his friend were looking for him... whether anyone even cared. His expression changed by the thought of that. He could've known. The secrecy between Ron and Hermione grew stronger every year – their behaviour changing. The look in their eyes changing as they met. Harry wasn't sure whether he was able to call it jealousy, but he was clearly unhappy by the way they decided not to tell him – for he was still their dearest friend.

Grabbing his blouse and cardigan, he rushed himself towards the exit. Leaving Malfoy for "dead". He wished to see the looks on his fellow student's faces. If anyone had been celebrating his absence – Draco Malfoy clearly not being one of them – he was ready to cut it off now. Making his way towards his dorms – trying his best to stay unseen for as many as he could – he quickly changed to a new shirt, leaving his cardigan to rest on his bed. Malfoy's smell still lingered around him – and the cardigan wearing him would enlarge it. Dizzy by his scent, he wobbled towards the great hall – ready to meet his mates.

Though breakfast was about to come to an end, Harry knew he would be able to gobble at least some scrambled eggs – right before his class would start.

"Harry!" Hermione called as she rushed to embrace him. Harry gasped for breath, having great troubles to stand on his feet by her sudden attack. He mumbled something close to 'morning, and escaped from her arms after a brief pat against her back. "Where have you been? You are so in trouble!"

"So are you," Harry muttered under his breath – watching Ron stuffing his mouth, as usual. Ron barely noticed his presence, creating a heavy feeling within his guts.

"We've searched everywhere! It was Dumbledore easing our minds. Malfoy has been missing too, his father is going to kill him!"

Harry cocked his head. "How does he know?"

"Snape has his custody while he's at school. I bet he told him." Her eyes widened. "Don't tell me you have anything to do with that!"

"He's fine," Harry muttered as he took a seat, filling his plate with eggs, bread and whatnot. Ron gave him a nod, smiling with his mouth closed, and waved his hand.

"Had a rough night?"

Harry shrugged – unsure to open his mouth, surprised how Hermione seemed to have forgotten the way he busted them the other night.

"What will happen?"

Dumbledore rose from his chair that very moment, raising Harry's attention by a gesture. Harry cursed under his breath. His stomach needed at least a bit of content before he was ready to continue the day, and so he grabbed an apple – stuffing it in his pocket.

"Professor," Harry muttered - fumbling his hands together. The hall turned quiet, and every eye was set to him. Dumbledore raised his chin, looking down on him – almost judging – but his smile told him otherwise. He pinched Harry's shoulder, walking him to the side of the hall – if just to speak in small privacy, and give others the impression he would get punished.

"Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him, his voice soft and blessed by his wisdom. "We both know I'm not here to punish you, but I do wish to know where you've spend the night. We were most worried."

Harry looked back over his shoulder, his friend staring at him – tensed, afraid he would be send home for whatever the reason was. "The room of requirements, Professor. I though you would reckon."

Dumbledore nodded in silence, pinching his shoulder a second time, and raised to see the crowd. "I thought so," he replied airily. Without another word, he greeted him, and pointed Harry back to his spot. Nothing to worry about. Dumbledore was a wise man, but also rather unusual, and sometimes hard to understand...


	19. Love triangle

"You really have his back," Ron yawned as the three made their way towards transfiguration class. Harry shrugged, granting him a cheeky smile in return.

"What can I say? I am a lucky bastard. Besides, I haven't done anything wrong."

"You weren't in your bed, Harry," Hermione cut through – her cocky attitude polluting their spirit. Ronald couldn't care. Though it was determined to cost Harry his education at one point, for now it remained amazingly fascinating.

"Now tell me. What about Draco?" Hermione looked at him, her massive frown caused her forehead to wrinkle, and her nose came close to Harry's cheek.

"Please," Harry muttered – entering the classroom. "How should I know? I hate that slag, and you know it."

Hermione took a breath, rolling her eyes as she made a run for her favourite spot – close to the Professor. Ron and Harry, on the other hand, took a spot in the back – nice and hidden to the left corner, away from the light and any business.

"Again," Ronald muttered under his breath. "-a substitute teacher." He dropped his head – rubbing his forehead, fearing the worst.

"Snape?" Harry hissed – his eyes widened, an unpleasant feeling creeping down his spine.

"Most likely," Ronald replied, shaking his head in despair. Hermione grabbed her books, scanning through her finished assignments – ready to deliver, the rush doing her good. Ron looked at her – though staring was a better description. Though Harry opened his mouth, talking about homework and whatnot (something he obviously didn't finish) he noticed his absence.

"Dude." Harry gave him a punch. "Stop swooning."

Ron didn't respond, probably way too chicken to tell his friend about his love for her. Ridiculous, really, since it had been obvious for quite some time now. Ron bowed his head, ashamed – knowing he knew too.

"I've seen you two." Harry looked at him, curious to whatever his response would be, and he raised a brow. "The other night. Don't pretend it didn't happen."

Ron thumbed the tip of his tongue along his lips, suddenly triggered to get his books from his bags – if just to create a little distraction. "So?" Ron shrugged. His pensive attitude caused Harry's teeth on edge, and once Professor Snape came through the door, he bend forward to hiss something offensive.

"So? I saw you two hooking up, not giving a single shit about me?"

"Did you wish to join?" Weasley was a true master in being an utter dickfart.

"No, Ron. I bloody thought you two would tell me, instead of nacking on behind my back. I'm your best friend!"

"Potter..." Professor Snape broke their argument, his voice laced with bitterness and his lingering tongue. "Weasley."

A shiver ran down from both their heads to their spine. Hermione turned, her cheeks fluttering red – her eyes set to kill. Miming something, Ron turned his head – biting his lower lip as he dropped his quill, not willing to continue his leftover homework. Hermione hid her head behind her curls, her head glowing by hatred and shame – flipping through her homework with her famous stubborn attitude.

"Nobody wants to know about your love triangle. Very unfortunate you couldn't take part of it..." Snape looked down on them, his sleeky hair stuck to the sides of his face. "Please, continue the conversation elsewhere?" He raised his brows, though his expression remained the same; most terrifying. They both gave a quick nod, swallowing their fear as they were knocked down a notch.

"Well fuck you," Ron growled as he bowed his head. Harry clenched his jaws, grabbing his bag – yet not to grab his books.

"Well fuck you too," Harry snapped at him, getting up from his desk to move to another seat. He wasn't ready to talk to them. Not now.


	20. Vanished

The day came slowly to an end. After ignoring both of his best friends, not even granting them a single look, he scattered through the castle with his head held low. Hurt by the way his dearest friends kept him a secret, he decided to visit Hagrid around tea-time, thinking he could help him off his jealousy. Hargid was most famous for his loneliness, it seemed, and appeared to handle well during most circumstances. Maybe he could ease his pain, if just by serving him a small mug of gin. Hagrid made those mistakes before. Why not again? Though Harry barely liked the taste of alcohol, it took ease of the weight he carried on his shoulders – and it would numb his tastebuds in time anyway. Though his visit was short, and no alcohol came to it, it definitely gave him the capability to vent out his heart, and just talk.

Dinnertime. It took Harry way too long to realize he hadn't seen Malfoy all day, and only as he walked into the great hall – meeting the blond halfway as he tried to escape in a hurry – he came to the realisation of missing him. Harry slowed his pass. He wished to talk to him, if just to nag about his absence, but caught something different – resulting for him to stop and stand still. Draco did the exact same, seeing his enemy ahead of him, but seemed too exhausted to give him his usual nasty look. He simply batted his eyes, his face pale by mental destruction, and turned his back on him – taking a second exit to avoid any contact. Harry dropped his tensed shoulders. Disappointment caused his eyes to drop, and he wondered with all he had dear what on earth happened today. For now he felt lost. Though he was meant to eat, his appetite was gone. He felt sick to his stomach knowing something happened with Malfoy. Never did he lose his condescending attitude, until now. Something was wrong, and Harry had to find out.

"Harry!" Hermione called – her judging eyes burning in Harry's back. "Stop this nonsense at once!" He had no clue whether it was about their fight, or him following Malfoy, but he couldn't care. Now his stomach was sick, and his curiosity took all of his attention, he simply went – knowing where to find Malfoy in case of losing. He was lucky once realising Granger didn't follow, and even though the arguments with his best friends, he didn't feel like solving them.

"Malfoy," Harry hissed, rushing after him as he swore he could see him vanishing behind a corner. "Malfoy, wait!" His shoes echoed through the halls. Nearly headless Nick wandered around, his shadow creating a cold vibe around the area, and he wished to talk to Harry – if just to thank him once more for all of his help during their second year (he could never shut up about it).

"My dear Harry Potter," his smile was astoundingly.

"Please not now, Nick." Harry gritted his teeth together, almost stumbling over his own feet, and took the corner sharp. "I'm looking for..."

Draco had vanished.

"-Someone..."


	21. Puppies

Nearly headless Nick stayed around, if just for a little chitchat, and followed Harry like a curious black cat as soon as he made his way back towards the Great Hall. Though Harry felt almost obligated to follow Malfoy, it didn't seem to feel as good as he thought it would, and so he made his return. Ron and Hermione were still eating. Ron - stuffing his face as always, and Hermione – now silent and absent. She seemed to be bothered. But who wasn't nowadays? Seamus and Dean sat next to them, above all laughing and chattering, and seemed rather merry than usual. Harry didn't feel like talking to either of them, though, and could barely find the effort to wave them a hand as they called. No, he'd rather take place next to Luna, Neville and Ginny – which seemed to be quiet, and enjoyed some peace while they ate.

"Guys," Harry chugged as he sat down – his arms folding in front of him.

"Hey Harry," Luna's voice was laced with respect; high and soft. "You don't seem too happy."

Ginny dropped her chin, barely able to speak, and scraped her leftovers onto a fork. She didn't seem too happy to see him, for whatever reason possible.

"I've had a rough night, really. I reckon you all know." All three nodded in silence, though Luna granted him a friendly smile. "Of course... Well, that."

"What was it like?" Luna's protuberant grey eyes stared at him, wide and intimidating.

"Fine," Harry replied somewhat awkward. "Nothing special, really. Just rough?"

"Is it true?" Neville whispered as he bend his head towards the group. "Did you manage to get Malfoy kicked out of school?" His eyes were glistening by utter excitement.

"Sorry?"

Ginny grabbed her stuff and moved, her lips locked and her movements rough.

"What's the matter with her?"

Harry looked at her. He couldn't answer Neville's question. Neither did he know what appeared to be going on. Shrugging, he followed her movements – being taken into Hermione's arms as she sat down next to her. "Leave her be," Harry muttered, even though neither of them made a move to go and get her.

"Aren't you happy for them?" Neville asked – raising hi brows."

"-What about Draco?" Harry cut through. Enclosing the group, he wished to talk about any other business but them two. "What happened?"

"Ehhr," Neville threw Luna a confused look. "Malfoy got kicked out of school?"

"Malfoy?" He was clever enough not to call his first name again – knowing he'd rarely (to never) do that. His palms got sweaty, and nervousness caused his heart to go crazy. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Neville replied excited. "Lucius took a whiff of the situation, and he went totally nuts. Besides, Malfoy hasn't opened up to his father yet. Didn't tell him what he's been doing. What about you, Harry? Do you know anything?"

Harry shrugged, his body unable to find either rest or patience. He wanted to leave, look for Draco, and leave the eating for later. His mouth was dry. Even though he knew he was incapable of holding any stomach content, he couldn't withstand a glass of juice. Taking a large sip, he looked at Neville – still ignoring the question for all it was worth. What could he possible say? Yes, in fact I've been with him the entire night. Oh and we made out like two bitching puppies. No, not so much.

"I've seen him," he answered at last. "Just for a split second or so." He stuffed his mouth with a grape, probably just to look careless, but got even sicker to his stomach as he experienced the sweet taste. Another sip. If just to flush it down his throat.

"That's it?" Neville asked – raising his brows as if not impressed. Luna was simply listening. Her dreamy eyes stuck blank to Harry's glasses, but he didn't mind. He truly liked her, even though her weirdness. Harry gave a nod in return – his mug closed between his hands, as if he was holding a hot mug of coco during the winter. He simply felt sick, nervous and destroyed.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Luna asked after a long silence. Harry gave her a look, smiling faintly. "You look rather pale. Has it anything to do with Ron and Hermione?"

Harry shook his head – lowering his chin to look into his glass. The pulp of the orange juice swirled to the surface as he tipped his glass to the sides.

"Nah," he muttered – ready to drop his forehead to the table.

"It's about Hermione, isn't it? I know you like her. I can see it the way you loo at her."

"What, no? She's my best friend. Always has been. I'm happy for them."

"Doesn't seem like it," Neville replied, now turning the pages of the Daily Prophet he received from Dean after he finished reading it himself.

"I'm pissed at them because they kept it a secret. Did you know?"

"About them hooking up?"

"Yeah." Harry looked at Neville. He could see it whenever he lied.

"No, honestly. I didn't see it. Just as now, Hermione remains complaining about the way he eats."

"Always," Harry replied – shoving his glass away to lean onto the table at last. He sighted.

"Shouldn't you eat, Harry?" Luna smiled at him – rubbing his back in all of the sudden. Though Harry appreciated her effort, he gestured her to stop as he straightened his back.

"I'm not hungry, really. Besides, Ron brought a box of cornflakes. Now he's messing with 'Mione, I'm sure he won't miss it."

"I know a spell that causes one's skin to look as though it is coated in cornflakes. You'd like to see it?" Neville's eyes began to glitter – he loved to impress his friends with his silly skills. "It's..."

"-No," Harry cut through, his voice suddenly a lot louder. "Please, no. I've got to go. I think I'm going to vomit." Harry rushed on his feet – taking his leave with his mug still half-full.

"Shall I hold your glasses?" Luna asked as she got off her seat.

It was pointless.


	22. Bunny in the Dungeons

Harry took a deep breath as he wandered through the halls. He managed to find some ease on his own, yet his mind wasn't put to rest just yet. He had to find Draco. He had to know whether he was still around. Unfortunately entering the Slytherin dorms wasn't an option, and so he paced through the dungeons – hoping to find him there. Holding his advanced potion making book, he decided to read a little – hoping not to took too suspicious as he wandered around.

"Potter!"

A harsh and low voice made him startle – causing him almost to topple over as he dropped his book. It was Goyle, pointing his wand at him by anger.

"Goyle." Harry crouched to grab his book, but Goyle snorted – hissing for him to back off. "Calm down you chicken," Harry hissed. "I'm sure you barely know how to use that thing." He was referring to Goyle his wand.

"You have no business here," Goyle replied – his ugly eyes narrowed even more than usual, trying to look sturdy even though Harry could smell the cold sweat running down his shivering spine. "This is Slytherin's property. Besides, do you feel any better?"

Harry raised his brows. "About what?"

"Now you've caused Malfoy's leaving."

Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed away his uncomfortable business. His wand burned in his pocket – having the strange urge to paralyze the bastard and get the fuck out of there. "Did he leave?"

Goyle wrinkled his nose, his wand nearly touching Harry's throat now. "You'd wish."

Harry tried his best to shrug, and made his turn.

Goyle gasped for breath, probably trying to gather as much as audacity as he could. "Locomotor Mortis!"

Harry respond swiftly, having his wand drawn before Goyle could finish his spell, and cast it backwards by chance. It wasn't occasional to rebound a spell, but to Harry's surprise it did.

"Protego!"

Goyle toppled over, his face white but his cheeks fluttered by shame and anger. His blood was boiling up to his long-boiled face, ashamed by his missing. Ashamed by his own weak attempt.

"Come on, you weak bastard. You're making a fool of yourself." Harry still pointed his wand at him, knowing they were alone for now. Harry rarely felt the urge to punish someone, or even take a mock. But now, seeing Goyle wobbling against the pavers, it brought him great pleasure. A weird kind of satisfaction that made him feel evil in the most pleasurable way. He'd always hated him. If just by his stupid manners and weak attitude.

"Please, do some homework. Go to class. Borrow a library book. Your attempt was most disappointing."

"Fuck you," Goyle spit as he tried his best to get up on his feet again. "One day I'll dance on your grave."


	23. Treasure

The chances of finding Draco wandering through the Dungeons appeared to be small, and since his faithful companion wasn't at his side, it caused even more suspense about his presence in Hogwarts. Could there be a possibility of him being gone already? Did he make his leave without telling anyone? It was hard to say so: his father being a true ass, and way to vulnerable for anyone's opinion. Lucius Malfoy was a man of honour, it would be most awkward if anyone knew about his son's bad business – especially since Harry knew more of it. Though Harry would hardly claim himself as a gay person, he couldn't call himself bisexual either. Never did love occur in his life: unless his failing love for Cho, ending into heartbreak and misunderstandings. They were just friends now: if just because he couldn't afford love. Not during his circumstances. Cho was a wonderful girl, most truly, but too vulnerable. Harry would experience more death, grieve and pain during the trails of his life, and Cho couldn't be a part of it. Not even if he really wanted to. Besides, as said, it was all over now. And for all Harry knew, he was a desperate fellow in need of sexual business – no feelings applied. However, what it was with Draco, he had no clue. Draco had been the one to kiss him, multiple times, and showed his frustrations in a strange way. It caused Harry off guard, and served him sleepless nights with endless rows of questions: unanswered still.

After having about an hour spend in his dorms, reading the advanced potion book to be at least a bit of productive, he decided to go on for a run again. Hermione and Ron were still out of sight. His fellow Gryffindors were scattered around the castle, reading, chatting, laughing and whatnot – but no piece for him. Not only did the found it hard to play of joy – knowing his two best friends were nacking on the other side of the door – but also was his head filled with questions. Where was Draco? Why did he have to leave? What was going on between them? His textbook remained resting under his elbow – his head leaning into his palm. He was daydreaming. There was nothing to put him to his homework right now. He sighed deeply, slamming the book close with great effort as he got up from his chair. There was one small opportunity of finding Draco, if he was still around. And that would be the room of requirements, where he could remain hidden and undisturbed. Great exhaustion hit him as he made his first steps. Seamus waved at him, showing his care as he stumbled; yet Harry waved it away. Smiling gratefully, he made his way towards the door. His feet were heavy – almost swollen it seemed, and for a moment he considered going to sleep already. After a slow turn, scanning the common room, seeing all those pretty faces having fun, he decided not to go to bed just yet. Not because he was afraid he would be held awake by the noise, but also because he wanted to find the same joy as they did. Wondering where his "former" friends would be, he made his leave.

He didn't need to go far. The entrance to the room of Requirements was located at the left corridor. Walking closer, he did his former ritual, and the door opened in a flash – as if it was open already. Harry could hear a radio play as he got in. Music echoed among the endless piles of stuff. Someone had to be in here, and when Harry thought of the one thing (or more like person) he thought of Draco, and what happened the other day. Harry flinched as a crowd of woodpeckers rushed through the air – almost attacking him on the head – and he grasped for a vase he almost knocked over doing so. This place was a mess full of forgotten and hidden stuff. Filled with treasures. And Harry searched for his own lost treasure. "Malfoy," he called as he wandered through the "halls" of junk – his voice still low, as if he had to stay quiet in case anyone else peeked around. Maybe, if Malfoy was around, he wasn't alone. Who knew about his business here? Though the music appeared to come closer, a genre containing dramatic piano riffs and crying breaths of violin (something not to Harry's taste), he still couldn't find the source. "Malfoy," he hissed through his teeth, almost annoyed now – his head spinning by nervousness and headache caused by the terrible taste of music. "Where the fuck are you, man?"

The music stopped. Harry flinched at the sudden silence, and put his senses to work – scanning for a sound. "Potter."

It was obvious. Draco appeared from behind a corner, and seemed to be pretty beaten up. Harry cocked his head, surprised by his finding, and raised his brows – his question stuck to the back of his tongue.

"What happened to you?"

Draco batted his eyes, holding his arm as if he was afraid it was about to fall off. He shrugged, his lips pressed into a sour line – as if his mommy told him he couldn't get another cookie right before dinner. "Dude, tell me. What happened to you?"

Draco stood there, standing with a black eye and a chipped lower lip. Strange, how it appalled him – knowing he wasn't the cause of it. "Come on, tell me." His voice became raw. "Was it your dad?"

"Don't pretend like you care," Draco snarled. "You know how he is. You were right."

"About what?"

Draco didn't answer. He simply flicked his tongue across his front teeth, and stared at his feet. It was obvious he was ashamed for his bruises. His father beat him to shit, and Harry wondered if this was the actual first time. "That's sick," Harry continued, scratching the back of his head. He expected Lucius to be a difficult father, but not like this. He always presumed him as a coward, and his mother as overly protective. Basically, he thought they were just a couple of spoiled brats. Draco in particular. And there he stood; the blonde, skinny Slytherin student – comparable to a smashed potato.


	24. "Us"

It was horrible to see Draco like this. Even though he was crowned as one of his biggest enemies, he never meant for this to happen. Though the reason of the beating was still vivid, Harry wasn't even sure whether he really wanted to know it or not. Did his father find out about their business? About his homosexual activities with the one person he wasn't supposed to spend time with? Though Harry was "praised" as the chosen one, the slumbering burden, he wasn't the only one. Draco was forced by the Dark Lord to complete several tasks, being threatened by the death of his family in case he wouldn't proceed. Draco barely meant to become a spoiled brat, but was simply created to – being a part of a pure-blood family tearing his youth apart. The boy without choices. However, Harry didn't know about this. To Harry he was just a boy, praised and tugged to a certain kind of perfection Harry couldn't put his finger on. Yes, he was attracted to him. Or at least it seemed like it, according to the last several months of spending hours a day thinking about him. Though Draco's leaving was one of his darkest desires about a year ago, he now found it one of his deepest fears – knowing he could be gone and treated like shit once he'd vanished from Hogwarts. Harry didn't like the idea of it. He spend most of his youth in his uncle's house, in a cupboard under the stairs, living with the most foulest people of all, and he couldn't forgive himself wishing it to someone else. Not to Draco, at least – wherever he would end after this.

"Are you going to leave?" Harry asked at last. A vein pounded right under the upper skin of his forehead, heavily visible. Draco didn't respond. He stared at his feet, defeated. It was like he was shrinking by utter shame. "Answer me," Harry cried, spit leaving his mouth unintentionally. Draco looked at him. His judging eyes stung Harry as they met, and he rubbed his cheekbone, right under his black eye. He hissed, as if forgotten he had any of the bruises at all, and batted his eyes again – trying to gather words from afar.

"I don't know. I don't even know where my father is right now. I'm sure he's trying to put some blame on Dumbledore... Seeing his circumstances..."

"What do you mean?" Harry barked in fear and defence. "Does your father know about us?"

Draco cocked his head, appalled by the word us, as if they were anything. "No," he replied, dull by surprise. "Because Dumbledore doesn't his shit done properly. You know he's been almost send to Azkaban. Come on man, Jesus."

"Are you taking a piss?" Harry snarled. "Again?" He threw his head in his neck, scoffing, and turned his back on him. It felt like Draco was playing a game. What did he want from him? What were they doing anyway? He thought they were finally done with this bullshit, putting blame on each other for whatever the fuck they were doing. It became tempting to use the Obliviate spell, if not on himself.

"It was a mistake," Draco spoke, "You've been a mistake. It's been a fucking mistake you were even born."

Harry's mouth dropped, his face now pale. "Sorry?"

"All my life I've been trying to make my father proud. All my life I've been doing endless shit to make everyone proud. Becoming a great Slytherin Perfect. And you know? I would've gotten there already. I would've become the best fucking student, if it weren't for you fucking everything up each and every time."

"Your Father?" Harry replied almost baffled. "Proud? Ever? Look at yourself! Look at what he's done to you!"

"It's irrelevant," Draco replied, approaching him with anger.

"I don't care about what you think, Malfoy! He's vile and cruel, and you're just pathetic!"

"He has been a better dad than yours. Dying at your bed while you lay drooling! Didn't do shit to protect either you or your mother. He just wanted to die! Just to be released from your bullshit future."

Harry had his wand drawn. His view, black by anger, caused all of his muscles to tense, and he threw a spell after he pushed Malfoy down to the ground – giving the blonde no possibility to respond in defence.

"Sectumsempra!"

Once releasing his terrible rage by magic, he collapsed to the ground as the last spark of light left the tip of his wand – an unravelling sound of slashing blades echoing through. Unaware of the harm he caused, not having it used before, he parted his lips as his eyes filled with tears. Draco gasped for breath, laying flat on his back – his arms hanging down on a pile of fallen books. Harry refused to watch. He had no idea of the pain Draco was going through, or the blood dripping down his fingertips – leaving dark stains on the yellowed pages of the books underneath him. Draco cried, blood leaving the corners of his mouth as started to choke in his own blood; salty tears burning skin as they trailed down his neck.


	25. Over

A squeaking, curious sound left Draco's throat. Blood seemed to fill his lungs, possibly in a rapid rush, and his body trembled – his muscles twitching in pain. Harry looked up at last. In furious rage he performed a spell so dark, he didn't know what kind of influence it could possibly have. Seeing Draco, blood spilling through his clothes, caused him to flinch. Cold sweat ran down his spine, and in utter furry, he fell to his knees in front of him – holding his face to look him in the eye. Draco was becoming cold and losing consciousness. "No!," Harry growled as salty fluid dripped down his chin. "God, no!" As swiftly as he could, he unbuttoned Draco's blouse. Tearing his clothes in a rush, no matter the pain he was causing. Draco cried still, unable to answer any of Harry's actions, no matter the hurt. "Fuck!" Harry cried as he looked at the cuts spilling blood from his weakening body. "Help!" Harry cried, his voice raw and full of despair. "Somebody please help!" Gritting his teeth, he tore his clothes apart, binding Draco's wounds – hoping it would stop the bleeding. "Don't you die on me! Help!" Knowing he was unable to stop the wounds from bleeding, he got up on his feet. Draco's blood stuck to his hands and clothes; making his stomach weak, and he made his leave – running through the bunches of junk spreading his way. Once finding the exit, he slammed the door open – his breath stuck in his throat, his face dripping by cold sweat. "Somebody help!"

Harry drew his wand once more, pointing it at the walls ahead of him, knowing this would be the only way to receive mature attention.

"Expulso!"

Harry covered his face as chunks of stone clattered through the hall, and he fell to his knees as he heard someone approaching – heels rattling against the cobblestone floor. Harry cried, looking down at his hands in shock – his body shivering by fear. The person approaching him in rapid speed appeared to be Professor Snape, as if he was destined to be seen by the worst teacher at school.

"Potter!" Snape called, a twitch in his voice – he sounded angry. He grabbed Harry by the collar, investigating his face, the blood, enjoying his tears.

"It's not my blood," Harry gasped for breath. "Draco," he stuttered. "He's in there. The room of requirements. Hidden room. He's bleeding. He's dying."

Snape let go of him at instance, giving Harry his lung capacity back for any strange reason. He looked at him, his eyes almost draining Harry's soul as he told him: "Do not tell anyone." He vanished into the room, the secret entrance fading at his entrance, leaving Harry cold and alone on the floor.

Harry got up on his feet as soon as his body allowed him to. Shaking and sobbing, he tried to make his leaving as unnoticeable as possible. Having his hands cleaned by using the inside of his shirt, he closed his vest – covering the half of his face with the hood hanging from it. He was lucky to wear his normal clothes, now it was Friday night. After going down several stairs, ignoring any person he met (though there weren't many) he locked himself up in the girl's lavatory on the first-floor. Moaning Myrtle sang a song, doing her business on the very toilet she died, and barely noticed Harry's presence until he turned on the sink. Crying under his breath, he pulled off his shirt – cleaning his hands to get the copper stains of dried blood off his skin.

"Harry?" Myrtle cried as he appeared from afar. Harry wrinkled his nose, snorting, trying to keep his business to his own.

"Not now Myrtle." His voice was stuffed. "Leave me alone."

"This is my place," she yelped as he approached him – studying his body like she was a kid feeding her eyes in a sweetshop. "That's blood," she marked, pursing her lips to hide a smile.   
"Yeah, no shit."

"I like it," she continued. "It looks sexy on you."

"Will you please just fuck off?" Harry threw her an angry look, his eyes red of crying, Myrtle snarled at him, making her way up to sit at a window, brushing her hair with her fingers – sweeping looks at him as Harry washed his face. "You are just like the others," she spoke as he investigated the outside world. "Cruel and-"

"Bye Myrtle. I'm sorry."


	26. Lonely universe

That night it became almost impossible for him to fall asleep. After two showers; trying to scrub all of Malfoy's blood off his body, he dropped to bed – paying no attention to Ronald rattling about his new girlfriend. No one seemed to know about Draco's health, nor did anyone ask about his leaving. Harry's eyes were red of crying, and his cheeks hurt – the salt of his tears having turned into some sort of acid, irritating his cheeks more at the minute. Ron was in the seventh heaven. His lips were swollen, his cheeks bursting red, and he smelled funny. Seamus and Neville seemed most interested in Ron's experience, and so he spoke with great detail – giving the impression to Harry as if he was close to feeling Ronald's tongue in his own throat, suffocating him with disgust. He wanted to say something, brawl at them – forcing them to stop. It appalled him, leaving him with agony knowing no one seemed to care about him. Wasn't his suffering visible? He turned to his side, mocking – trying to keep his lips from twitching as he held back more tears, his body bathing in sweat.

His roommates laughed, seemed to start throwing things at each other, and a sock landed right next to Harry's face. That's enough, he thought.

"Ron!" he shouted, tears running down his face unknowingly. "I honestly don't give a shit. Please, you know I'm lying right here."

Ron scoffed awkwardly, throwing looks at both Seamus and Neville. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know you cared so much."

"Of course I do. Or well I don't, I just don't want to hear it. You've been ignoring me ever since you decided to hook up with her. I thought we were a team!"

Seamus couldn't hold his chuckle, and hid his face.

"You fucking pervert." Harry threw back the sock, landing right on Seamus' forehead. Ron cocked his head, not speaking just yet.

"You guys abandoned me, and for what?"

"Harry," Ron started, folding his hands together as he leaned in. "I know you have feelings for her. I've known it from the very beginning. It's always been a battle between us."

"Get your head out of your arse, man," Harry scoffed – wiping the drying tears off his chin. "She is my best friend."

"Mine too," Ron replied – dead silence leaving the rest.

"I would've told you if I couldn't handle it. But I can, because I have no feelings for Hermione whatsoever. She's like my fucking sister. We've been friends for so long!"

Ron shrugged, tugging his bed sheets to cover his bare legs. "I only did so to protect-"

"Protect what? Me? Seeing you with Hermione doesn't do shit to me compared to everything that happened to me in the past. I'm actually quite happy for you even."

"Again," Ron barked as he looked at him. "As if it's been only you suffering year after year after year. I was there too, Harry. Hermione was there. Neville was there, Seamus got almost kicked off school because his mother saw you as a threat. Because you are the chosen one doesn't mean shit. We all experience the same shit."

Harry stared at him, his lips pressed into a sour line – unable to speak now hatred and self-blame caused his lungs to cringe. "I know," he replied at last – shaking his head, wiping away the tears off his chin. "I know... And I'm sorry for that."

He thumbed the tip of his tongue along his chapped lips, and looked at his roommates – forcing a smile on his face as he got up from bed. "Excuse me."


	27. Arch

Harry slept elsewhere that night – no consequences attached. Professor Dumbledore knew. Not of his fight with Draco, but him sleeping elsewhere. He needed to be alone – an unused office being his best pick, giving him the loneliness he desired. And it worked. Once he assured himself of a good night sleep, he woke up at ten. It wasn't planned. Nor could he believe Dumbledore allowed him to – since he was meant to practice for the Quidditch game coming up, and that was about two hours ago.

It seemed like the practice was cut off, knowing everybody was a little of guard for whatever reason possible. Harry had his own, resulting for him to wander around the castle with no particular goal ahead. Harry felt disgusted. His breath seemed sour, and he hadn't been shaving for days. His hollowed eyes gave him the impression he hadn't sleep for days. He wanted to visit Professor Snape. Draco's blood was still on his hands, if not under his nails, and he felt sick thinking about it. It was only later that afternoon he found Snape wondering through the halls of the second floor.

"Sir?"

Harry touched the walls, as if he had troubles walking. "Professor?"

Professor Snape seemed to pretend as if he didn't hear it. He stiffly continued his walk, yet a single hesitation seen as Harry cleared his throat and visibly stumbled on his feet. Snape's back raised black and tall from the whitened pavers, his feet invisible as his gigantic cloak followed his movements. It was almost scary. It frightened him, seeing Snape here, and not with Draco – being his favourite caretaker of all time, and in great debt of the Malfoy's community. Harry knew he'd been a death eater, if not still. Harry ran after him, trying to hold on to his swift pass as he tried not to look too eager or desperate. Nevertheless, Snape didn't stop. No matter the sound of Harry's sneakers hitting the stone floor.

"Snape!" Harry called at last, stampeding like an ox. "Stop ignoring me, damnit!" He tugged the Professor's cloak, cursing at him – his head dizzy by angst. Snape kicked his elbow, tugging his cloak loose from Harry's grip; being suddenly cautious and askance.

"You don't have the rights-"

"Shut up," Harry sneered as he arched his back. "What happened to Draco? Tell me!"

Snape presented himself as furious, until Harry spoke of Malfoy's name – easing his anger, exchanging it for suspicion.

"Please," Harry cried – veins popping in his neck. "I'm sorry, Professor. I just need to know."

Snape raised his brows, surprised and thrilled by Harry's eager to know.

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"What?" Harry breathed. His legs were feeling numb. "Draco? Is he alright?"

"I presume." Snape raised his brows once more, shrugging as he prepared to continue his walk. "What could have possibly happened?"

"I don't know," Harry muttered, watching the professor leave. "I really don't know..."

And Harry was left alone once more with nothing to ease his head.


	28. Neglected

Draco remained out of sight for the following week, and to Harry's suspense he came up with the most ridiculous conclusions possible. He claimed professor Snape hide him, whether to use him for experiments or ingredients. However, this couldn't be true, knowing Draco was his favourite student, and Harry simply became mental.

Everyone was ready to get to their necessary exams. People were studying, groaning and pouting all over the place, and Harry tried his best to keep his attention stuck on his books – having people pointing at him. He was now famous for being a loner and looking like an anorexic hobo. Funny, how roughly two weeks could make your appearance change so drastically. Hermione hopped by. She was carrying a pile of books, hooked under one arm, and looked down on him worriedly. Harry pretended not to notice her. He wrapped his fingers along the edges of his parchment, and yawned as he read.

"Harry?" Hermione spoke as he hovered above his desk. She searched for eye contact. "You look terrible, are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Harry replied after he sighed. He threw her a look. "Don't you have to study?"

"You know me," she replied, laughing softly as she sat herself down. "I have everything well planned."

"Well, I'm very pleased to know you've given me five minutes of your time to remind me of how terrible I look." Harry got up, gathering his stuff together – flicking his wand so the textbooks would rise and float towards their given spot. "I'm sorry, I've got to go."

"And why is that?" Hermione rose from her chair. "Why are you acting like this?"

"I've got things to do," Harry replied – raising his brows as if he wished to imply more.

"Such as what, Harry?"

He gritted his teeth, dropping his shoulders – giving in to his own lies. Who was he fooling? He'd been slumbering from time to time. Not even lecture could reach his brains now.

"Please, don't hide yourself from me."

"I'm tired," Harry respond, shaking his head. "I can't eat, I can't sleep. I feel ultimately horrible." He pressed his lips, bowing his head to keep his eyes from watering, "I've done some terrible things, Hermione."

Hermione cocked her head, surprised but worried. She knew how easily he could get into troubles, but doing terrible things, what was that supposed to mean? "Tell me," Hermione gasped as he crossed her arms. Harry bowed his head further down, shaking no. "Tell me Harry."

"-I can't," Harry tried to compete. "It wouldn't only destroy me, but also another. If that person isn't destroyed already."

"This has something to do with Draco's leaving, hasn't it?"

Harry kept his jaws clenched. He didn't want to respond anymore. He'd given too much information already. God, she was good at guessing.

"Harry, you know you're always save with me, as in... I respect your every choice and action. Don't forget that alright?" She placed her hand on his shoulder trying to get him to look at her. Harry met her eyes, nodding gratefully – though a smile was barely shown. "If you're ready on telling me what's bothering you, do it? Alright? I've got to go now. I have an appointment with Professor Sprout. It's about-" She shook her head, her hair shivering to all sides in a hurry. "Never mind, I'll tell you later." She gave him a hug in a rush. "Goodbye Harry!"


	29. Unfinished business

Harry had nearly forgotten what kind of event they were reaching. The halls were decorated with pumpkins and candlelight, and Nearly Headless Nick was out for a cheer – greeting everyone with such excite he finally managed to be actually scary (He decided to pop up every time you didn't expect, shouting out as if he tried to sell a bunch of cheap flowers on a market). Not always very pleasant – though it did brighten Harry's mood.

Lunch was served at the Great Hall. Every Gryffindor was blessed with a great mood now Harry had managed to capture the Golden Snitch the other day, and Gryffindor caught up with Slytherin – the lions now shining on first place, as it should. Hermione and Ron were sitting now both at another side of Harry, plucking his hair as he ate – imitating weaklings of some animal sort. Harry laughed, being merry for his friends were back – deciding to cut their fluffy bullcrap giving Harry the shivers. Eating pudding, sausages and scrambled eggs, they chattered about the Halloween Ball, how they were planning to go coupled as three – matching outfits (if just for the sake of making Harry feeling better). A last glance got thrown at the Slytherin table. Draco's seat was still empty. Would this chapter be closed at last? Did he vanish out of his life just like that? He didn't know. He decided to avoid all of Draco's nasty little friends ever since he battled Goyle.

"Potions, was it?" Ronald asked as he raised his brows – trying to remember their schedule. "For you two, yes," Hermione stated proudly. "I'll be heading to Herbology. In fact, I'll be heading there right now. Professor Sprout wants to see me."

"Yeah, what about that?" Harry called as Hermione rose from their table. She didn't listen. After a quick peck on Ronald's cheek she left.

"How particular," Harry spoke as he watched her leave. "She used to hate you, and now you two are hooked up. What a world, huh?"

"Yeah," Ron began as he poked the egg yolk on his plate. "About that."

"Mmm?"

"I'm thinking about breaking up with her."

Harry lowered his fork – confused as hell, knowing they were most dedicated to each other. Especially ever since their faces were stuck together every five minutes.

"You're joking."

"No," Ron continued. "I'm a dork, she's a nerd. We don't mash up."

"Eh, I think you do. A perfect cocktail. You'll become the silly housewife, and she'll have a fine paying job, granting you diamonds and fortune." Ron hit him in the ribs. "Ouch, damnit."

"We're not meant to be with each other, alright? In fact, I found someone else."

Harry raised his brows, shocked by his friends confession. "Oh, okay. I see..." Awkward conversation. "And when are you planning on telling Hermione? You better not break her heart."

"No, no!" Ronald choked with fear of being misunderstood. He continued about his love for her, as a best friend, some sort of sister and whatnot. Harry was meant to listen, but couldn't. His scar started to sting, giving him a tormenting headache, and he got drawn to the Slytherin table as if something was luring after him. Someone was staring at him.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered throughout Ronald's story, not even listening anymore. "Draco!" He hurried on his feet, bumping against others – ignoring their cursing and calling. "Draco!" His voice was raw, out of control. The blonde locked his eyes, his attitude calm and motionless, until he rose from his seat – turning his back on him as if he wasn't worthy. "Draco wait!"

Harry pushed the obstacles aside blocking his way – the path towards his sly fellow student seeming a lot longer than it should be, and once he was about to reach his destination, he slipped face flat on the hall pavement. Harry was left with a chipped tooth and a bleeding, swollen lip. Trying his best to crawl back up, friends gathered to give him a hand.

"Blimey Harry," Ron sighed as he crouched aside him. He couldn't suppress his laughter. "What were you thinking?"

"Why were you heading for that boy?"

Harry pressed the back of his hand against his lower lip, preventing the blood from spilling – even though it wasn't much.

"It was Malfoy," he stated.

"Huh?"

"Unfinished business," Harry muttered. "Leave it."


	30. Masquerade

Uncontrolled looks stained to Harry's back. People were talking about him. About his insidious outbreaks, and his deserted looks. It was about a week ago that he swore he'd seen Draco sitting in the Great Hall, and to this day – even though everyone told him otherwise – he refused to call it a tangled perception. He wasn't going mad. Draco was still around. No matter how silly it would sound, he could feel him.

Today was Halloween. The chatter and laughter had become louder, and tricks were done all through the day. Tonight there would be a ball. Hermione got them their outfits, and though Harry hadn't seen them yet, he wasn't as keen too either. Ronald still lived his lie, leaving Hermione clueless according to the situation – and funnily enough Harry seemed to be more sorry than he was. However, he couldn't get tangled in between them. He finally had his friends back. No matter how it could break them, as the golden trio, he was selfish enough not wanting to lose the both of them again – for now he felt lonelier than ever.

While everyone remained busy changing clothes and face painting each other with fake blood, Harry remained calm and alone in the corner of the Gryffindor common room. Hermione decided for them to dress up in a Victorian style with dashes of muggily-peeks to it, just for shits and giggles. Ronald seemed delighted by her ideas. The brown suit would match perfectly, along with wooden oak mask – making him look wise and mischievous, to his taste. Hermione, on the other hand, thought he looked silly. But since their love was tough enough as it was, she decided to leave him be and keep his stupid mask. Harry thought of keeping it plain simple. A normal black mask attached to a stick, so he didn't have to look as silly all the time – or take off his glasses. A masquerade ball. How fun it would be.

The night had started. The opening ceremony was done, and as usual everyone was forced to do a waltz – as Professor McGonagall was ever so pleased with the Christmas results from years ago. Hermione looked beautiful as ever. Her dress faint yellow, extraordinary and tremendous with a silver laced mask attached to her face without a string – and than Ronald looking rather silly, as if he tried to mock the elderly. Harry, on the other hand, was natural; a black suit, bordeaux tie, and his mask – a weak excuse for a Dracula-like costume.

"Can I have this dance?"

Harry turned, baffled and weak once he saw who asked him to dance. Slender and tall was he who gave his hand, his skin porcelain pale – his face hidden behind a mask of what seemed to be precious metal. Silver – faded through time.

"Draco?" Harry gulped as his eyes began to burn. The boy behind the mask didn't reply. His hand remained lifted, waiting for the acceptance. "You know I cannot take that," Harry muttered as he stepped back. Peculiar, how everyone danced but no one seemed to notice. "Where were you?"

The boy took back his hand - his black cloak draping down his shoulders – and turned his back on him, leaving with a slow but steady pace. Harry shivered once his scent gnawed through him, familiar and rich. Dark but warm, like the scent of a forest during a snowy winters day. "Don't you walk away from me," Harry demanded – grabbing his cloak to keep him still.

"Harry?"

A sweet voice entered his ears from up close. Luna Lovegood dressed up like a poison ivy held his hand what caused him to turn. "You seem worried?"

Harry shivered at her words, and looked around in a hurry – losing track of the one he was looking for.

"I'm not." Harry forced a smile on his face. "Just a little stomach ache, that's all."

"How comes?"

"Too many caramel cobwebs."

He clenched his teeth, annoyed by the way he allowed him to escape again. Doubt caused his stomach to turn, and now there was nothing left to run to, he wondered whether his friends were right. Maybe he was just going plain mad.

The night continued. Masks were lowered, and people were starting to get rather wasted – for what they could. Ron and Hermione got into a large fight, and Neville puked all over Luna's feet, now trying to make it up to her as he cried his eyes out. Harry sat in the corner once more. His body restless yet weak, no matter how hard he tried to have at least a bit of fun. "Where are you?" he muttered to himself as he scraped the refined leathery edges off his mask. A few were still dancing, others were snogging, and Argus Filch cursed to himself as he swept the stoned floor clean. Harry got himself ready to stand up and leave for bed, for he could not prevent his friends from breaking up, or felt like easing the innocence from his fellow students – a.c. Luna and Neville. Lifting his hand, he waved his friends goodbye – stumbling on his feet, his view vivid now he was intoxicated. Hermione cried, giving Ronald the hand as he served Harry a smile, and the others didn't bother. Today turned out to be a disaster, and though none of it seemed to be any of his fault, he did feel to blame. Mister Filch served Harry one last foul look, before he demanded the rest to leave as a well, yet Harry didn't wait up. Wandering through the halls he searched for redemption.

And then he appeared.


	31. Black smoke

"I thought you left?" Harry snorted, trying to keep his sweaty fists from shaking. "What a horrible night to be refused for a dance." He seemed pissed. The slender boy didn't reply or move. Standing in front of a wall torch, the only movements were the shadows on the walls – making him rather sad now shadows fell down on his mask. Harry pursed his lips, lifting his chin as he waited for a voice.

"What's with the mask?"

The boy remained still. Just a soft noise of breathing came from under the silver-plated layer. Peculiar, how it looked a lot creepier now they were standing alone in a dark corridor. "Funny, how you decided to pop up every now and then, but still don't have the guts to speak to me. Should I be impressed? Take it off."

The white haired boy took a breath, leaning back against the wall – showing no sign of wanting to participate.

"I said: take it off."

"Have a walk with me?"

It took nothing to take Harry to walk with him. Especially since it was his only opportunity to hear more from him. Now he heard his voice once more he realized how much he had missed it. Once they headed outside the castle, speculations were ever so caused. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see. I knew you couldn't let a secret rendez vous go."

A shiver ran down Harry's spine. Though the words they shared were few, it was enough to keep him both excited and curious. Walking down the steps, they headed for the boathouse: the underground harbour where they stored the boats for the first year arrives. Once arriving there, they headed up the stairs; entering the Bell Tower – the both of them lifting their wands to create bulbs of light.

"Now what?" Harry muttered once he sat down at the top, his back resting against the ever so cold bricks. "Enlighten me."

"You left me for dead."

"-I thought you loved me."

Draco scoffed, turning his face to have a few outside – watching the owls drift by. "You're not the victim here, Harry. You were killing me. Who's the enemy now?"

"Take off your mask," Harry cried softly – anger unsteadied his voice. "Take it off!"

"Fine," Draco sighed, stroking his wand down his face – the mask fading into dark smoke. Harry dropped his jaw, veins popping on his forehead, and he held his breath.

"I thought it was a simple rumour, but it's true. You are a death eater."

"Yet no murderer."

"But you will be." Harry added coldhearted.

"If I must."

Harry got up on his feet, rushing his hands through his hair – walking circles. "Why," he cried as he closed his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"-You knew,"

"That you weren't dead!"

Draco curled the corner of his mouth, twisting the ring on his index finger – seeming to feel awfully pleasant. "You deserve it. The pain." He paused, looking down at his chosen one. "You started this."


	32. Kiss of death

He, like the fragrant taste of rain, both destroyed and delighted him. For far too long he hadn't been able to enjoy his presence, yet now he was back everything seemed to be so much different. He took his glasses, rubbing his eyes before he took a rest against the wall – looking outside the window, trying to ease his mind with the view.

"Why take the effort?" he muttered after he thumbed the tip of his tongue along his lips. "Why do you come to see me? What makes you?" Throwing a glance back over his shoulder, he saw Draco pinching his lower arm; the dark sign was burning his skin.

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

"What do you know about it?" Draco loosened up his tie, rushing his fingers through his hair. "Don't tell me you have any idea of what you're talking about."

Harry shrugged, staring at the tip of his fancy black shoes. He felt ridiculous for coming here. For still caring at all.

"What about that kiss?" Harry asked nonetheless. "Don't tell me it was nothing."

"Believe what you want to believe, Potter."

It left him breathless.

Malfoy marched through the tower, rubbing his chin before he took the time to speak again. "Lucky, I was."

Harry looked up, pursing his lips as he waited for whatever he had to say.

"I went into a coma. Severe bloodloss got my pressure low. But Professor Snape came. He saved me. If it wasn't for him, I would've died." Malfoy narrowed his eyes, looking down at his scarred enemy – relentless. "Don't you ever dare to say that we were lovers. You're dead to me."

"It was me who send him there," Harry confessed in vain. "I had no idea of what I was doing. Never before did I use that spell."

"Makes you irresponsible." Draco scoffed. "I am the chosen one. Me! Yet you get the credit."

"Is that what you were doing it for?"

Draco didn't reply. In silence he looked down on him, enjoying his power. Loving how he felt like someone at last.

"You were trying to get inside my head... You were a death eater all along."

"Don't go melodramatic on me, Potter. I hate to see you like this. I can't believe you considered yourself as the potential chosen one..." Draco paused. A twitch in his brow betrayed him; along with the way he crossed his fingers to loosen his up his joints. His voice became awfully small, and as he took a breath he leaned in – watching his enemy from up close. "You are," Draco continued, his face troubled, "but to die."

Without sharing another word, or waiting for response, he held Harry's head placing his lips on his to seal his words; his tongue slipping in through the gape between his lips. Harry got drowsy. His mind was controlled by a psychotic teenager; feared of being unloved. And yet he kissed back. Hungrily, ignorant, his hands tangling the edges of his collar to pull him closer His glasses knocked against his brow ridge, their faces so close their noses pushed against the creases of their skin. They kissed. Harry; desperate, unwilling to let it die.

Draco pushed him away. He gasped for breath before he got back on his feet, biting his lip before he turned away from him. Like a layer, ready to be shed, his teeth tore his skin.

"You got what you wanted," Draco said as he wiped his mouth.

"And what is that?"

"Eternal pain."


	33. His last chance

Harry's eyes became awfully small. No matter what he meant to say with that, it got his stomach turning. The taste of his lips remained on his tongue, and though it was venom, he wanted more. 

"I never had a choice." Harry looked up at his white haired friend, and remarkably enough; smiled. "You do. You don't have to do this."

Draco turned his back on him, biting the tip of his nails – cursing because his breath became short. "Shut your mouth." Grabbing the roots of his hair, he rushed towards the mirrored window. "You know nothing about me. I have no choice!"

"Malfoy."

A penetrating voice made both of the boys flinch. Professor Snape stood at the end of the steps, listening – his eyes piercing up through their shadows.

"Potter."

"We're bloody fucked," Harry gasped as he pushed himself back on his feet – his back bumping against the walls.

"Students are not allowed to stray outside the Castle after dark." His eyes became small. "I presumed after all these years you knew," Snape threw a look at Harry, blaming him; "Potter."

"I apolo-"

"Silence."

Draco didn't reply. His sunken eyes stared down at his feet, and he quickly rolled down his sleeves – turning away from the both of them.

"I'm going to escort you both back towards the castle. Tomorrow I want you at my office, Potter." 

~~~

The door closed. Harry was send upstairs to head towards his tower – however, unguarded. Draco, on the other hand, was guarded by Professor Snape – holding him by his cloak, almost dragging him along the pavers towards his storeroom. Draco sat down on a stool, looking around – becoming awfully small once Snape got settled. Along the way they'd been talking. Draco's eyes were bloodshot. He wasn't just being punished because he sneaked out of school. There was more. He knew.

"It's you who's at stake here! Don't lose sight of your obligations, Malfoy."

Snape's voice was raw and dark. His worries seemed real at last, yet didn't make it any less complicated. Draco shrank, his white hair sticking sleekly against his forehead – his skin cold and clammy. His eyes were burning red. He'd been crying. Snape scoffed, disgusted by his weakness – leaving a terrible taste in his mouth. "You are weak, like your father."

"So are you," Draco sneered before he rubbed his eyes. "You know you're forced to watch my back. Otherwise he'll snap your head right off. You're weak for wanting more. I am the chosen one. Me! And you needed to become second best."

Snape flashed his hand, flattened, veins popping on his forehead – ready to have it crossed Draco's cheek so he'd smack off his stool.

"You'd be nothing without me, boy. Watch your filthy mouth. It's me who saved you."

"Do it," Draco gritted through his teeth, his eyes shooting fire.

Snape cocked his head to kick the sleek hair out of his face, scoffing as he soured his lips.

"Troubled, you are. A fool too." He grabbed Draco by the collar, pulling him off his stool to drag him out of his storeroom. "One more chance, or I will take my measures."

Draco stumbled on his feet, almost landing head first on the ground as he sobbed. 

"Feelings are easily to forget... It'll only take a single flick. Don't you dare to forget that."


	34. Same old song

Draco hopped away in a rush once Snape released him from his deadly hands. His back was covered in cold sweat, and if he could, he would've vanished from school right away. He wanted to leave. Leave Hogwarts, leave his family. For a single second he wished to change his life for another's. A muggleborn even. Rubbing his arms he thought of those who touched him there. Harry, sleeping against him that night in the room of requirements. His hands were sweaty, and yet if he could, he would've done it all over again. He was crying. His hair was a mess, and his shirt stuck to his sweaty back – leaving him uncomfortable, cold and itchy. Running down the stone steps to reach the Slytherin common room, he cursed under his breath – pulling the roots of his hair. No matter, as a prayer being heard, someone stood waiting down the entrance – sad and defeated. Small.

"Potter," Draco breathed.

"Tell me what the hell is going on!"

Draco didn't reply. He simply ran up to him, throwing his arms around his neck to pull him into a close hug – his face buried under the hems of Harry's collar, finally willing to cry out and simply not give a shit. Harry stood petrified, his arms extended to the side – gesturing a simple "what the actual fuck" until he gave in to his own cravings and hugged him all the same.

"Incomprehensible, you are."

"Don't you tell me this isn't what you've been wanting all along." Wiping his tears he backed off – his face as sour as it could be, no matter the butterflies blooming up in his stomach.

"Having you, crying in my arms? Not really?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

Draco crushed his lips onto his, his fingers digging deep into the fabric covering his shoulders, and no matter how stupid it could've sound, he deeply wished he could've become him at that very moment. His body shivered under his touch. It seemed all so forced yet felt so right. Harry pulled back eventually, placing his head against his before he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. His face saddened, his voice now small.

"We should be with one another."

Draco didn't reply. Instead he simply closed his eyes firmly, running his fingers through Harry's hair before he opened his mouth to loudly take a breath.

"I want to sleep with you tonight."

"You can," Harry replied softly, pulling the blonde's roots as he exhaled. "But not in our rooms. We should go to the room of-" He didn't finish, for bad things had happen in the room of requirement, and they both remembered them very well. Backing off he pulled his sleeves, shaking his head as he scratched it. "I'm sorry." Biting his lower lip he took a glance at the Slytherin entrance. "I feel so wrong."

"-Because you are." Draco grabbed his shoulder, his eyes puffy and red. "We are."

"Tell me. What is it you want from me now?"

"I told you." Draco straightened his back. "I want you with me tonight."

Harry stared up bolt. Thinking about their possibilities, he could only think of one. One he did not wish to take – for it carried terrible memories.

"We can't," Harry puffed, chewing the insides of his cheek. "And hell, I'm not going to bring you back to that room."

Draco seemed bland. For all it seemed he couldn't care a single bit about the past. His life was a mess nonetheless. Nearly dying was apparently a part of that. "Come," he muttered as he stuffed his sweaty palms in his pockets. "Follow me, I've got an idea."

Harry decided to follow him. Walking up the stairs all the way to the seventh floor, he had a feeling where they were heading for.

"I'm not going there, not again. Did they fix it?"

"Of course they did. And no, no. Come on, it's just through here."  
Harry cursed under his breath, yet allowed Draco to open the gate once more. Once entering – with second thoughts – he squeezed his eyes as they entered a dark, cozy room, torches inflaming once their entrance closed.

"This is the hide out," Harry remarked once he walked further. "I've been here before, once. Don't bother to ask me, I don't remember."

Draco nodded, though he was barely listening.

"What did you think of?"

"Nothing. I just wanted a place to sleep, with you."

Harry's heart skipped a beat, however he remained cautious. "What did Snape tell you?"

"The same old song."

"What?"

"Nothing..."


	35. Hide out

Once they managed to shove two simple beds together, they reshaped the pillows and went off on a search for the finest blankets. During this search they didn't speak. In fact, they barely looked at each other. They simply shared a secret smile every one in a while – their cheeks turning red every time one of them caught the other. The silence was well appreciated, and even though they both had the feeling they had to speak to one another, they didn't. Their presence was enough for now, and they'd have plenty of time to talk with each other along the night anyway.

After a minute or ten they were easily settled, yet both sitting at a side of their bed – their backs pointing at each other. Harry rubbed his wrists, summing up his actions, making notes of Draco's actions – if they were handy at all.

"So what now?" he asked eventually, throwing a glance over his shoulder. The blonde stared at his wand, as if he was ready to use it.

"Woh, calm down there cowboy." Harry hopped off the bed – lifting his arms in defence. "Don't tell me you set this all up?"

Draco looked up, frowning as he lowered his wand. He seemed offended. "No." Dropping his wand he kicked it to the side – vanishing beneath another's bed. "Now you prove it, that you're not up to no-good."

Harry placed his wand on the floor, lifting his arms once more before he kicked it away as well – leaving himself defenceless. "Feel any better now?"

Draco gave him a single nod before he dropped his head. He remained defeated.

"Are you okay though?"

Harry got up, deciding to take place next to the blonde – placing his hand down on his knee. "You're never this silent."   
The blonde looked up at him, his eyes bloodshot and his lips slightly chapped. He smiled nonetheless, leaning in to brush Harry's hair to the side – finally being able to give a good look to his scar. "You look like a dipshit with that thing on your forehead."

"There you go. Wasn't that hard, now was it."

Draco poked his side, chuckling – this being the actual first time Harry heard an honest chuckle from his ever so lasting enemy.

"I need this," Harry mumbled as he squeezed his knee. "You. We could've been friends forever by now, if they didn't steer you the wrong way."

"Friends?"

Harry didn't reply. He simply looked at him, his lips sealed and his hands slightly sweaty. They exchanged looks. Their eyes met each other's, going down to their lips, and looking up again. Harry couldn't breathe. For far too long he'd been looking at his enemy; finding no joy but hate, and now... He felt in love. That thought hit his stomach, and without realizing how close their lips were from touching; he pulled back to wipe his mouth. "I'm sorry." Harry shook his head. "Forgive me. You've been making it hard for me. I cannot withhold myself from asking the same question over and over again, knowing your answer could differ per day."

Draco held his breath – his remaining at the same spot. This time he did not answer.

Harry dropped his head, scoffing to himself as he rubbed his hands together – ready to claim his remark on Draco's silence. But then he kissed him, and Harry allowed. Draco dove on top, nailing Harry down to the bed with a slow and steady pace. He loved every single moment of it. Harry longed to ask for more. No matter Draco seemed nearly started with his actions; Harry couldn't wait to ask for more. And so he did. His hands guided down his hips – grabbing the hems of his cardigan so he managed to pull it upwards, removing it from the blonde's body. Draco hesitated. For a second he seemed to be forgotten of what he was doing, yet recharged straight after – helping him all the same by unbuttoning his blouse from the top; giving Harry the opportunity to get rid of his own. Their bodies met. The buttons of their trousers tangled up as Harry pulled him up close – and their lips burst together into a passionate, longing kiss; a rush of adrenaline and arousal fulfilling their bodies, for there was no more trouble to be afraid of.

"I want you," Harry stuttered – pulling Draco's roots before he pushed up his hips, allowing Draco to get a glimpse of his physical state. Draco buried his face in his neck, biting his skin before he rubbed tight against his trousers; gasping as he closed his eyes.

"I want you to touch me," Draco hissed between his teeth – feeling Harry's hands rushing along the edges of his back. "I want to finally feel you."


	36. The game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains "serious" smut

They discovered each other's bodies slowly; sharing slow and passionate kisses – resulting for pieces of clothing to vanish in rhyme. The bed turned messy. Their neatly flattened sheets were now crumbled together – their pillows pushed down on the floor. No matter his headache growing stronger, Harry clamped onto Draco – wanting more. His scar was burning; his head dizzy – and damn how he loved it. Draco hissed, pushing his teeth down into Harry's neck – biting his skin steady but slow, teasing the shit out of him.

"Fuck," Harry groaned as he threw his head back, his nails digging into Draco's back. "You're driving me shit crazy."

"Am I now?"

Harry grinned, pulling Draco closer to pull him back for a kiss, yet the blonde refused. Showing off his gums, his cocky attitude raising Harry's likings, he trailed his hands down Harry's body – his slender fingers drawing patterns on his belly. Harry gasped, his cheeks fluttering bright red now he managed to look down at his own pants – seeing his erection nearly peaking out the hem of his pants. His boner was rock solid.

"Draco," Harry stuttered – his arms searching for his shoulders. "I-"

"Just take it."

Harry held his breath – his eyes wide open as Draco too again his lead; opening the buttons of Harry's trousers like an eagle going for its prey. His breathing got faster, his palms went sweaty, and at the slightest touch near his private parts he flinched – his back quickly covered in sweat.

"What are you going to do?" Harry dug his fingers down his spine – his nails scratching.

"Inexperienced, fruit?"

"Well fuck, do you blame me?"

Draco scoffed, serving him a grin before he moved down – placing his attention elsewhere. Grabbing the hems of Harry's trousers, he pulled them down – no longer willing to talk. He wanted action, just as much as he did. Harry flinched once more, his head heavy and warm – as if he'd been standing upside-down for too long. He wanted to stop him, hold his hands, take action himself – if just because he felt too strange to let the blonde to anything to him first. Draco held him, grabbing his cock as he bit down his lip – pulling his roots to keep Harry down – resulting for him to groan in vain.

"Shit," Harry hissed – closing his eyes, hooking his thumbs along the edges of Draco's pants. Are we really going to do this?

Draco shoved his hand down into his boxers, his fingertips stroking parts no one ever touched before; his tongue now again rushing along the edges of Harry's teeth. Harry could no longer hold back. His hands struggled forward, searching for the buttons of Draco's pants to unbutton them in haste – his breathing speeding up as they went. Draco hissed under his breath – throwing his head in his neck when Harry touched the edge of his boxers, leaving his neck bare for a kiss. Harry went for it, his muscles aching as he leaned in – imitating a sit-up so he managed to bite Draco's shoulder as he pushed down his pants.

"You look so good," he moaned – peaking between their bodies, staring down at his solid cock – still hiding in its boxers. Draco flinched, grabbing one of Harry's wrists to squeeze it – holding his own pants up with the other.

"No," he growled as he pulled it back up. "It's my turn."


	37. Barefoot and broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains "serious" smut

Their hearts were burning with desire. Draco spoke in solid gold, and his hands felt like the hot summer air. Harry looked up into his eyes, a prey volunteering for his death. Everything seemed to have changed. But who could tell him this would last long? The blonde broke his thoughts by kissing him again, taking off their boxers without a sound. The silence was appreciated, no matter their huffing.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked nonetheless, his palms sweaty; both arousal and fear.

"Shut it," Draco scoffed, rushing his hand through his thick blonde hair. Burying his face in his neck, he trailed down his chest – his hand stroking down his inner thighs; resulting for Harry to keep his eyes tight shut. His cock was throbbing. He was nervous. Draco kissed his abdomen, resting his chin on his stomach for a small moment to look up at him. He sensed his tension.

"One night in one room is all it takes?"

Draco didn't reply. He squeezed his eyes together, pensively, until he grabbed the brown-haired boy's cock; enclosing his lips around it. For ten (eternal lasting) seconds he gave him the impression of what giving head felt like, and Harry moaned in return – his body shivering under the blonde's touch.

"Stop being such a pussy," Draco grinned. "Take it."

Harry grabbed him by the hair, gently but firm, and made him continue before he closed his eyes to relax. "You take it."

Draco dug his nails into his skin, sucking him long and intensely – his tongue flicking gently along his tip; making sure he would feel it in his entire body. Harry groaned, cursing under his breath – his fingers pulling the blonde's roots as the tickles in his stomach grew stronger. Draco knew he wouldn't last for long if he continued. He could taste his pre-cum gradually filling his mouth.

"Fuck," he moaned, arching his back. "M-... Malfoy, I'm..."

Draco stopped abruptly, his cheeks red and his smirk nearly glowing, "-Going to come?"

Harry bit his lower lip, his forehead covered in sweat while his body stuttered. Looking up at his companion, he pulled him up close – crushing his lips firmly onto his, wanting to take him whole. He would no longer wait. His body was covered in sweat, and his muscles were aching by desire. He wanted to have him. He wanted to share his first experiences with his blonde enemy, and he wanted to cover him whole in cum.

Harry grabbed him, holding his solid, warm, throbbing cock – jerking him slowly while he thumbed the tip of his tongue along the edges of his teeth. Draco took over him, grabbing the both of them to make their tips touch – grinding him until they were both close to their very edge.

"Come for me," Draco groaned – their foreheads touching. Harry looked up at him, his eyes merely opened; his body trembling under his touch, his nails digging down into Draco's back. "I will," Harry managed to stuttered as he blew his load – his cum covering the both of them. Draco kissed him, biting down his lower lip until he bled, and he came; their shimmering, porcelain bodies sticking together.

They laid there for about an hour. Silence enclosed them, and they barely touched. They were lying apart in a V-shape, only their temples touching – their fingers an inch from meeting. Harry finally awoke from his slumbering state. He slightly moved his head to the side, looking whether Draco's eyes were already closed or not, and he held his breath. His eyes hurt, as for his head, and he felt awfully close to crying. "I love you," he whispered, closing his own eyes too now. A brief silence followed, and a strange hollowness grew strong in Harry's chest. It was the feeling of being heartbroken. He firmly pressed his eyes close, turning to his other side so he no longer had to look at his enemy, and he pulled the sheets off the ground to cover his lower body.

"I love you too..." came from the other side of the bed after a few minutes of silence. But Harry was already fast asleep...


	38. Noon

Harry woke up the next morning, close to the afternoon. His head was pounding, the alcohol taking its toll by giving him a tremendous hangover – no matter how less he'd drank, for all he could remember. Last night had been long and draining. Many things happened, too comprehensive to remember. Rubbing his eyes, he held another close to his chest. A bare individual, pale like porcelain, lay close against his chest; and damn he was lucky he remember that part of their night. A modest smile curled the inner corners of his mouth, and he buried his nose into the blonde's messy hair. Malfoy woke shortly after, nuzzling close against Harry's chest before he groaned with slight agony in his voice.

"What time is it?"

Harry looked up at the ceiling – only now noticing he'd lost his glasses along the way. "Dunno," he answered, "did you sleep well?"

The blonde took his space to rub his eyes, and pulled the sheets close to his chest – leaving Harry naked aside, his cheeks flushing bright red. "Don't-" he growled as he managed to grab a corner, if just to cover his parts. "I didn't dress."

"I slept fine," the blonde replied, showing off his gums – no longer wielding the innocence of a child. "Did you?"

The brown nodded, shoving his arm under his head. "My head hurts though."

"Doesn't surprise me, really."

Harry chuckled, drawing shaped in the blurry state; representing the ceiling. "Have you seen my glasses?"

Draco shoved over, his hand touching the cold wooden floor beneath their beds, fetching his glasses in a flick.

"-Thanks."

"I got to go, though," the blonde muttered as he rapidly got up from the mattress – fetching his clothes in haste. "Professor Snape wishes to see me before noon."

"Fuck him. It's long after noon anyways. Stay."

Draco smiled pensively, pulling up his boxers in a rush. "You don't understand."

"I do. I do understand." Harry used his elbows to get up, adjusting his glasses behind his ears. "You're afraid. You're afraid he'll make you leave if you fuck it up once more."

"You want me to leave?"

"No, in no specific way. I want you to stay, here and forever."

"-Then I'll have to go."

Harry gritted his teeth together, pain striking his skull. He hissed. "For fuck's sake, stay."

"See you later, Potter." Draco buttoned up his blouse, and made himself ready to leave – the gate crumbling in view.

"Fuck you. What does that even mean!"

The blonde rushed towards the bed, quickly pecking the brown-haired boy on the lips before he vanished.

Again, nothing he could lean on.


	39. Shattered

No matter the riddles of which the blonde spoke, Harry felt rather good at last. No matter his lingering headache. After he got dressed himself, he took is time to find the showers to freshen up. Cum stained against his body-hair, and no matter the effort it took to get it off, he couldn't help but smirking along the way. The experience was strange and nerve wracking, but all the same he wanted more. He was in love, if not just with his body.

Later that afternoon he found some of his friends sitting in the great hall; reading books and chatting about the ball last night. New couples were formed, and others were broken. Hermione, for example, was sitting all alone – holding in tears while avoiding any eye contact. Harry wanted to visit, give her a hug and ask what happened, but got no opportunity since Ronald came around to spoil it. Hermione cursed, crying her eyes out as she hobbled away – Ron lingering at her feet as he spoke of his apologies.

"What happened this time?" Harry sighed as he dropped down next to Ginny. He didn't mean to offend any.

"They broke up," Luna muttered under her breath, holding Neville's hand; hiding it under the table. Longbottom didn't say much. His cheeks were bright red, and all he could was looking at his golden girl.

"Hah," Harry respond, his mind drifting off. "You're looking good, Longbottom. Feeling okay too?"

Neville shyly smiled, squeezing Lovegood's hand as he leaned closer. "Better than ever."

Harry showed his teeth, happy for those who'd been granted with love – as for he. His body still fed on Malfoy's lips, and he wanted more.

"And you, Ginny? Found a lover?"

"Well, I had a night planned, but he seemed to be occupied." Her voice was harsh.

Harry chuckled, slightly uncomfortable, and gazed around. People were looking at him.

"Who?"

Ginny got up, knocking over her cup of tea. "I saw you with him! Stop playing me!" Her eyes burned with tears, turning Harry's heart heavy.

"Sorry?"

"Don't, I get it. You took a taste of me, that was all." Ginny grabbed her stuff, rushing on her feet to leave the hall – and Harry had to follow.

"With him?" Luna's voice was high, but optimistic.

"Leave us," Harry muttered as he followed Ginny in a hurry.

He grabbed her arm once reaching a silent corridor, pulling her aside to get her to look at him. "Ginny, what do you mean?" A frown dug into his forehead. His palms were sweaty, and his stomach turned as she gasped for breath.

"I thought you loved me." She cried, drying her tears while yanking her arm.

"I do. Why would you ever doubt that?"

"No, you don't. Not like I love you." She dropped her shoulders, biting her lower lip as she gasped for air. Her body shivered under his touch as he pulled her close into his arms – kissing her temple as he felt it easing her muscles. The two of them kissed, once or twice, and ever since chemistry seemed to have been growing between them. However, ever since the complications with Malfoy grew, their chemistry flew.

"I saw you," Ginny cried in his arms.

"You and Draco. "


	40. Unspoken tales

Her tender body lingered in his arms, shocking and shaking as her tears shed. Harry couldn't move. The way she pronounced his name struck him as lightning. He was eager to ask her; when, where, how? But his lips were sealed – for no sound managed to come from his throat, afraid to make it all real. Almost pretending as if he didn't hear it, he drew his fingers through her hair. "I do love you," he whispered; forcing himself in some sort of trance, as if he whished to believe his own lies. "Trust me, I do."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny cried, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "We seemed so real."

Their seconds were valuable. Even though Lovegood asked Longbottom to keep his nose out of other peoples business, he couldn't keep his nose from doing so anyways now he was empowered by love.

"We are, Ginny, but-"

"Ginny," Neville gasped once he made his way. Ginny fled from Harry's escape, dropping her body into Neville's arms now. Longbottom took her in, throwing Harry a pensive look before he spoke. "I think it might be better for you to leave, Harry."

Neville seemed to have changed his attitude. He acted more mature than ever – and even though Harry felt like a proud lill' daddy seeing his moron all grown-up by lovesick, he felt slightly offended. No matter, he made a turn and left – wiping the sweat off his brow. "I'd like to hold you right now," Harry muttered nervously to himself, wishing his blonde would show up like he used to do. Randomly and unexpected. Rushing through the corridors Harry made his way to the court-yard. A few were outside, walking around – trying to get some fresh air after all the smoke and alcohol they'd consumed the night before. The cold came sweet, like the kiss of Oblivion – making Harry forget his head had been pounding for the last few hours. No matter, it did freshen up his memory in a different way; he forgot to go to Professor Snape's office. He cursed once he looked up the time. Though he could be saved, going to the Professor's office right now, he couldn't gather the effort to actually go there. Ginny scared him off, and made his head quite a mess – afraid she'd tell the others. Sitting down at one of the benches outside, he rubbed his eyes trying to remember the lot of last night. His stomach tickled, funnily enough in an extraordinary pleasant way.

"Hi Harry," a flirting, female voice spoke from behind. Harry looked over his shoulder, watching Romilda Vane passing by – holding the Spella Weekly magazine close to her chest. Harry forced a smile as he awkwardly lifted his hand for a wave. No matted his fierce responds to whatever her silly questions were, she couldn't stop being obsessive about him, as it seemed. Drawing her fingers through her darkened curls, she chuckled as she planned on circling around. Thank Merlin's beard for the distraction coming from her left side – Draco's fellow mates Crabbe and Goyle, looking grumpy as always. "Fatso," Harry smiled as he got up, jumping in front of Crabbe's feet. Looking at Goyle he frowned his brows, disturbed by his sloppy appearance. "Bigfoot... Any of you seen Malfoy?"

"You piece of shit!" Goyle staggered, lifting his fists ready to throw a punch. Crabbe clamped on to his arms, pulling him down before he managed to strike. Harry stumbled backwards, confused by their pointless reactions – knowing they were never bright enough to see the names as an insult.

"Get him out of my face!" Goyle barked as he forced his eyes shut. Harry backed off, pensively scratching the back of his head – hiding his cold hand down the edges of his oversized jumper.

"You're a sick bastard," Crabbe gritted through his teeth as he dragged his friend along.

"Why?" Harry awkwardly giggled as he watched Goyle stagger into the distance. "What did I do?"


	41. Hanging

Dinner was served. A mob of space remained empty at the Slytherin's table, and Draco was one of the many missing. No one seemed to bother. The evening was fresh yet polluted by sadness now Ginny sat at the end of the table, her eyes red from crying; and no one bothered to grant Harry another glance, for he was the one who broke the redhead's tender heart. Man, how Harry pleaded for her to keep her lips from spilling Harry's darkest secret. If he could only call it off, and call it a quit. Professor Snape's seat was empty. Harry was yet to go and meet him, nearly ready to be soiled by his word of death – a strict schedule of punishment ready to be send his way. Would Harry ever walk among the walls of Hogwarts, his heart filled with joy instead of fear? To his great regret not. How was he above all coping, now nothing seemed to go as planned? Before finishing – or better said touching – his plate, he took his dismiss and left without saying another word. A dozen of Slytherin students walked in right before he made his exit, and he stumbled upon the knockbacks and elbows he got along the way. While tugging his cardigan he walked along the corridors, hoping to meet Professor Snape halfway – so the actual entrance of his presence wouldn't be as bad. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case, and so he knocked on the professor's office door – secretly wishing for Snape to have taken a break for his own lonely dinner.

The door was opened with a flick from behind – two gigantic yet slim hands pushing him in before he could struggle.

"Potter! Where have you been?" Snape hissed with a toxic tongue. Harry stumbled on his feet, clamping himself to the corners of the counter to keep himself from falling.

"At school, professor," he replied sheepishly as he looked around – progressing what just happened.

"Quiet!" Snape closed the door, pushing Harry onto a stool before he turned to grab some tools. "We had an appointment."

"I know," Harry replied. "Yet you spoke of no specific time, professor."

Snape bit his tongue – leaning onto his desk as he firmly closed his eyes; most likely wishing he could slap the boy across the jaw with a book or two (if not an entire series dictionaries).

"One month," he began slowly, "of detention is what I am giving you for breaking the rules last night. Plus, as many points I can possibly pull from the Griffindor's scoreboard – for you never learn! I'll find you a fine punishment myself, and therefore I'm going to make you regret you came back to school this year. No more contact with Malfoy, for he is my finest student and you make his life even more miserable as it is right now!"

Harry drew his chin, clenching his jaw once he met Snape's eyes. "It is mainly you, it seems. And his father. Don't you tell me what to do!"

~ The door slammed shut. Harry rubbed his left cheek, burning with heat, cursing as he kicked the door.

"You're a fraud, Snape! I know it! I know you're working with him, all the same! Stop pretending. You're a fucking coward!" A certain force swiped him off his feet, causing Harry to land flat on his back – his glasses popping off, disappearing among the shadows of the space between the walls and bookcases stacked in the hall. "Fuck!"

Harry grabbed the back of his head, rubbing it as he tried to get up – his spine trembling now he seemed to have hit a nerve. "Fucking piece of-"

"Here," a soft voice came from behind – reaching out a blurred hand. Harry squeezed his eyes together, unwilling to take accept the helping hand for he couldn't see who was reaching out. His pair of glasses got put back on the bride of his nose; the vivid white picture becoming clear as day at instant.

"Draco," Harry gasped as he took his hand. A noise came from Snape's office, causing Draco to kneel down swiftly – dragging Harry to the side behind the bookcase. His slim index finger pushed against Harry's lips; the touch of the blonde creating a pleasant raise in his heartbeat.

Shut it – Draco mouthed as he tried to keep his lips from curling. Harry nodded deeply, closing his eyes as he waited for the noise to ease down. After a minute or two, everything seemed to be clear again. Carried away in some kind of trance, Harry got pulled away from it once Draco removed his finger; pulling him up to join. "Where have you been?" Harry whispered; eager to kiss him. Draco partially dodged, colleting a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a smile.

"Come. It's too risky here."


	42. Will you be home for Christmas?

Harry ran with him. The blonde pulled his arm, yanking him from one place to another – full of joy, as if he didn't have any care in the world. Harry stumbled. The amount of speed was too much for his joints to handle right now, yet he couldn't allow himself to trip along the way. No one could see them. No one was supposed to know of them. And yet someone did. Ginny. The thoughts of her wandered around his head like radio waves, spinning his head for he claimed to see her standing in each and every corner as they ran. "Where are we going?" Harry called out of breath. His feet no longer seemed to move, for it felt like he was flying.

"It's just through here," Draco smiled once he gave him a glimpse from over his shoulder. They ended up in an empty classroom. The same one where it all started about a year ago. Harry leaned onto one of the bookshelves, out of breath, as he tried to steady his messed-up glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Fuck," he breathed, wiping the sweat of his brow. He drew his eyes towards the blonde boy who seemed to be perfectly fine. "How on earth are you not out of breath. Damn..."

"I've been working out," Draco replied with a smug smile, fetching something from the deep of his pocket.

"So it seems," Harry muttered, trying to stretch his back for it hurt even more now. "Why weren't you at class today? Or ever?"

Draco looked up, smiling from ear to ear, walking straight up to the brunette; crushing his lips onto his for he seemed to have missed him too. Harry eased under his touch, gently grabbing his face to pull him closer – the taste of him sweet as ever on his tongue. He forgot all about the question, looking Draco straight in the eye once their lips broke, and he smiled. "I've missed you," he confessed. The blonde batted his eyes, a modest, genuine smile crossing his lips as he reached out to hold his hand.

"I've missed you too."

"What did Snape tell you? I got a shit ton of detention."

"Oh come," Draco bared his gums, "Snape wouldn't do that to me. My father would kill him."

"-Or you," Harry added rather serious. The blonde batted his eyes, squeezing his hand while a pensive expression drew along his face.

"Sorry," Harry apologized, feeling awfully small. "I shouldn't have said that."

Draco shrugged, dropping Harry's hand as he walked away, rubbing his hands together. Harry was right. He would if he knew his son got into trouble, again.

"Do you know what you'll be doing around Christmas?"

The blonde turned, shrugging all the same as a fair answer. "The usual. We don't really celebrate it, for my father thinks it's a muggle's business."

"Of course," Harry nodded. "So you'll just be at home then?"

"I guess so."

Harry sat down on one of the desks, flicking his tongue as he investigated the callus on the palms of his hands. It had gotten less now he wouldn't practice quidditch as much anymore. "You could stay here with me?" he asked, continuing to look at his hands. A scoff came from the blonde, who stood on the other side of the room watching his reflection in one of the stored mirrors.

"Rather suspicious, no? My father needs me at his meetings. I can't escape that."

"The death eater gathering parties?"

Draco threw a book at his face; resulting for them both to laugh until they realized it wasn't as funny, and he replied.

"Yes. Those..."


	43. All I want for Christmas is brandy

The days came and went. Before Harry took any time to prepare for the holidays, it was soon to be Christmas - and the halls were joyfully dressed with decorations. The choir was singing, each and every day right before lunch, practicing in the Great Hall, and the frogs were out to join them; merry, happy, and full of air. Draco came and went, just like time. Though he did not participate in each and every class, he came around more often - if just to show up between the switch to blow Harry a kiss, or to tug him into the mensroom. Harry decided to let it go, his Christmas plans including Draco. There was no way he would manage to keep the blonde at school, and no matter how much he wished he could, he wouldn't be able to ditch on the Weasleys either - for they were always there for him, and way too keen on having him around at Christmas. And the holiday arrived.

The halls were stripped, yet by people. Only a few stayed around; and funny enough Harry appeared to be one of them. The Weasleys decided to go to Romania, on short-term, since Charlie could not make it home this year, and Ronald couldn't decline - wishing to see his bother all the same. Hermione, obviously, immediately got drawn back home - unable to stay with Harry alone, for he would get on her nerves now he'd been seeming so blue, and no matter... Harry did not seem to care as much. Hagrid and some others would stay as well, and the holidays could be a great opportunity to finally get him to some studying. His OWL's were merely floating in thin feathers, and Snape would not appreciate him failing at the defense of dark arts - knowing he'd get stuck with Potter for another bloody year. All the same, owls flew up and on delivering him mail - and like the years before the Christmas tree was to be surrounded by presents again. Two pair of itchy Gryffindor socks - knitted by Ronald's mom (in merely three years he could be dressed in those things from tip to toe) - and plenty of candy, comics, and a photocase with a picture of the three when all was still well.

Though everything warmed his heart, a piece remained cold - for no sign of Draco was given these days. Not an owl, not a present, not a smile before he left. Two days before the school was off was the last time he'd seen the blonde, and that was it. They did not speak ever since. Harry found it difficult to cope with, especially now none of his friends were around. Though drinking liquor with Hagrid was a great way to get his mind off things, having his blonde around would merry the place in an indescribable way. He celebrated Christmas, modest - his books up close, yet untouched - and he got quite a little intoxicated after he sang and danced among the edge of the forbidden forest. He felt sorry for Hagrid. How he lived buried away in his shack, disgraced by many. Harry cried out his love for his taller friend, blessing his retarded features and easy brain - leaving Hagrid astonished on his porch step. Tears were shed, and hugs were given until Hagrid ended up falling asleep - leaning against the door post - and Harry had to manage to keep his feet on the ground. Ignoring the few staff members and students wandering the empty halls of Hogwarts, he stumbled towards the common room - hoping he could snuggle right into bed once he'd arrive.

He was covered in dirt from head to toe, his glasses barely see-through, and once the morning would arrive he would surely be cursed with his first ever hangover. Funny, how Hagrid managed to make Harry an even worse student - and neither of them cared. Truth to be said, his plans got carried quite elsewhere once he reached the nearby corridors of his rooms. Not just because he appeared to be a lot more wasted than he thought he was once leaving Hagrid's shack, but also because a person approached him from the dark - reaching up for his glasses to remove them.

"Lad..." he mumbled reaching out for his possession. "What the hell are you doing-"

"Your glasses are dirty," he got in reply - his heartbeat raising drastically.

"Malfoy," he breathed, a drunk smile covering his peachy face. He looked disastrous. "You came!"

"Yeh," the blonde replied - cleaning the glasses with his shirt. "Now shut it. I am not supposed to be here." The two giggled. Harry took his glasses once they were ready to look through again, and he embraced his friend while his heart bloomed. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

Draco scoffed, merely offended, and leaned against the wall while looking at his partner in crime.

"You would've surely forgotten about me, if I didn't rescue your drunk ass tonight. What have you been drinking?"

"Brandy," Harry replied - the smug smile impossible to erase from his face. "I was at Hagrid's..."

"Of course you were," the blonde replied in a sigh.

"-oh, and chocolate liquor!"

"Fantastic."

Draco took Harry's hand, slowly dragging him along while he studied him from tip to toe. "Are you all alone?"

"Figured?"

Draco rolled his eyes, glancing up the ceiling while squeezing Harry's sweaty hand. The boy seemed drenched by liquor. "Well," the blonde continued. "That means no one will miss you when I take you tonight."

"Where are we headed?"

"No worries. I want to show you something again."


	44. Locked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: PARENTAL ADVISORY EXPLICIT CONTENT COMING UP

Harry lost track of time. He couldn't remember what time he left Hagrids, and his head didn't seem to stop buzzing soon. Draco pulled him around, like he did before, yet seemed a lot more cautious but aggressive. Not in a way he couldn't handle.

"There we are."

Harry gasped as he threw his heavy body on the nearest chair, and gazed around as he stroked a lock of hair out of his face. "Another death-wish?"

Draco snorted, and pursed his lips concentrated while rushing towards Snape his desk. "Get yourself something to drink."

Harry scoffed, leaning back into the seat while watching the movements of his hands. "Snape doesn't feed. Not with food or drinks. But with the eternal suffering of his students."

The blonde didn't reply on his comment, and just narrowed his eyes, kneeling down in front of the drawer from the desk.

"It must be here somewhere," he muttered as he crouched in front of the drawer. After some pulls he realized it was well locked, and there would be no way to open it unless they owned the key. Snape would be far too intelligent to leave his property easy to theft. No spell in their possession would work. "it's locked."

Harry clenched his teeth as he loosened his tie, opening the first button of his shirt after. He snorted as well. The alcohol was draining his energy. "What are we looking for?" In some large steps he stood next to Draco behind the desk, and sank through his knees as well to look at the drawer just like Draco did.

"Any pick-locking skills?"

Draco shook his head, what made Harry reply with a dissatisfied mumble.

"As if I need such muggle skill. We come around in different ways."

"You are offending me," Harry replied rather dull - a smile crossing nonetheless. "Get up and stand right beside me, I can maybe open it with..." he shoved his hand into his pocket and got out a piece of wire, "this."

Draco smirked and crossed his arms. Not because he believed it would work, but because he thought the upcoming minutes to be rather entertaining.

"Potter, why do you keep a piece of wire in your pocket. Don't tell me you've traded your wand in progress."

Harry rolled with his eyes and shooed him away to push the wire into the lock afterwards. The lock didn't budge. "Took it from the Dragon Barrel Brandy cork. I was feeling nervous."

He took some time, wiggling the wire inside the lock - expecting it to work the same way as it did back when he lived at the Dursleys, yet it didn't. "What do you want that is inside here anyways?" he suddenly asked in slow phase.

Draco chuckled under his breath, looking down at the boy as if he was ridiculing him all along. "Never mind." He walked around the office, grabbing bits of this and that - coming back with a bottle labeled as alcohol.

"I'm not drinking that," Harry immediately refused. One more drop of alcohol and he'd lose it. Draco just smirked, and pretended like he couldn't hear it – pouring in two small flasks, spilling half of it on the ground. It evaporated at instant.

"Draco, no, stop it! He will kill us!"

Harry walked straight up to him, wanting to pull the bottle out of Malfoy's hands. Nevertheless, instead of Draco jumping aside all cheeky, he pressed his lips almost violently upon Harry's, and so before Harry knew it , he gave in. Draco tried to put away the bottle, back on the shelve without looking, but failed and so dropped it on the ground – not caring about the glass clattering among the floor as it broke into thousand pieces. Harry startled for just a second, knowing they would be in great trouble, but grinned once the intoxicated side took over, and accepted the kiss by gently kissing back – folding his hands under the blonde his jawline who pulled him closer.

"Since when did you get so affective?" he mumbled against Draco's lips.

The blonde smirked, and simply shrugged as he pulled back a bit. "Since I finally realize what my real desires are." He smiled. "And I like the drunk you."

A hitch in Harry's voice got audible, and his cheeks turned red immediately. "What did you just say?" He slowly pulled back and stared at him now, seeing how the familiar cheeky, handsome grin appeared on his face.

"Since I finally realize what my real desires are," the blonde repeated cockier.

"What are you implying? What are your real desires?" Harry his voice was soft – showing some weakness of being uncertain about this situation. The drug did not just befoul his breathe or motions, but also his feelings.

"I want you," Draco answered. "Right here, right now."

Another hitch fucked with Harry's voice, and he batted his eyes – not daring to look at Draco now the roles were switched. "I want you too," he replied - his voice raw. "I mean, we need to go Draco." He gasped for air and shook his head. "I don't want to lose you. Not again. And I will once they'll find out we are here."

Draco pulled back his head so he could stare down at Harry's face, and titled his head as this twinkle appeared in his eyes.

"I don't want you to feel like this," he muttered, apparently caring.

"I don't feel like anything," Harry replied. Cold sweat dripped down his back, and every unfamiliar sound caught him off guard. The blonde didn't seem to buy it.

"Let me give you head." His eyes stood serious, but optimistic, and for a second he looked down. Before Harry could even ask what it was, giving some one head, Draco took a breathe to clear him out. "It's a blowjob, to comfort you," he continued.

"A what?" Harry scoffed, shaking his head - ready to throw a comment if Draco did not pull down his guard once more. For a second the blonde went through his knees, as if he was really attempting to give him head any moment, and his fingers fold around the buttons of his pants. As his knees met the solid floor, a soft sigh escaped his throat, and he chortled - barely audible.

"Jeez..- Don't!" Harry called, jumping back while putting his palm against the blonde's head, - as if he though he had to hold him back with force. He more or less calmed down when Malfoy started to laugh and he realized he'd been joking – or at least he hoped so. He didn't laugh himself, though.. For a moment he thought he would end up in one of those particular hallucinations again.

"- Don't ever do that again," Harry sighed, letting go of him. "It's not funny."

Draco chortled softly, and tilted his head amused after he got released from Harry's hand. He smirked. In seconds he got up, and before Harry could protest, he pressed his lips back on his again. Gently he kissed his soft pouted lips while stroking his jaw.

"Don't worry," Draco breathed. "Though I expected you to be less of a wimp."

Harry wanted to throw back another comment, but lost all of his words as soon as he felt the warm adrenaline rushing through his stomach. His voice trembled as he lightly shook his head, and said "I don't."

"Good," the blonde replied softly, moving further down his neck while rubbing the tip of his tongue along his pale skin. A sensitive spot. Harry twitched, and he closed his eyes as he dropped his head in his neck –playing the open card. A moan that escaped his throat unknowingly. And he was caught.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SMUT SMUTTY SMUT SMUT SMUT... Oh, and it's terrible

"You getting wet?" Draco teased as he sucked on his skin, leaving a hickey at a perfect spot. His fingers drew along his neck down his collar, unbuttoning another two of his shirt.

"Do I what?" Harry questioned in a light panic. It was hard to keep his sanity now both arousal and intoxication were on.

"Nothing," Draco replied, harking his teeth over his bare skin of his shoulder now. In a second the cloth of his shirt flew through the air. Harry had simply ripped it open, not caring about the buttons clattering all over the floor. Satisfaction took over the blonde as he cocked his head - bearing his teeth in pride. Harry sighed in pleasure, pulling the boy close now he realized the game was on.

"Oh, good, getting impatient there Potter. I see..."

"Oh you should know," Harry smirked.

"Then tell me..."

Malfoy thought it would be pretty fair if he could undo Harry from his shirt as well now, and so did – not caring about the tie remaining on his neck. After all, he still wore his tie as well. They couldn't easily rip that one off from their necks. It would suffocate them.

"This is Snape his office, you know? Don't you think he'll mind if we-"

"Like you actually care," Draco smirked. "He minds everything." Harry couldn't keep himself from smirking too, and buried his lips in Draco his neck as well– sucking his skin softly while making his way down. Draco sank his fingertips into Harry his back, scratching his nails over his skin until red, slightly burning stripes revealed themselves in the shuttering light of the reflecting candles that illuminated at the entrance. Harry clenched his teeth now, trying not to groan as soon as Draco pressed his teeth into the skin of his chest, and he opened his eyes on a crack to gaze at his body – just realizing how hot he looked while wearing his tie but no shirt. He gasped now, sheaving his hand into the back pockets from Draco his pants, and couldn't keep himself from squeezing his ass. A gasp came from Draco's throat, and he threw his head in his neck, not being able to hold back a moan now as soon as Harry started to move the tip of his tongue along his bare chest.

"Fuck," Harry groaned, realizing how his dick began to grow without his permission. It bumped against the cloth of his underpants, and got suppressed along the way – especially as Draco buried his teeth in the skin of his shoulder now. Draco grinned, stroking the tip of his tongue toward his earlobe, not realizing how he was giving him a boner by this. He just meant it as a way of teasing, but apparently, he was very good at it.

"Feeling anything?" Draco was referring to the way Harry squeezed his butt. Nevertheless, Harry caught up the question as something different, and so he squeezed out another grown as he grabbed the back of Draco's head – softly pulling the roots from his hair as he pressed his lower parts against his hips. His back writhed and he couldn't keep his animal-sounding vocals to himself anymore – even though Draco was barely doing anything. Apparently, Harry had some sexual frustrations hiding in his body, or he'd been craving for Draco to do this for way too long already.

"I want to feel you," Harry suddenly squeezed out after some seconds – breathing into the blonde's ear.

Draco widened his eyes, cocking his head, frowning after. It was only then that he finally realized how something bumped against the bare skin of his abdomen.

"You what?"

He gasped from surprise and backed off immediately – colliding with his back against the Professors chair, not being able to keep away a chuckle. Harry had no idea whether to feel offended or not. As he tried to study his breath, he moved his back against the edge of the desk and grabbed the edges of the wood to press him up a bit. He gasped, swallowing away some saliva that piled up in time under his tongue.

"Blimey Potter."

Draco his smirk faded, and he turned out to be more serious now. In seconds he turned, plucking their jackets and ripped shirts from the ground, and snorted as he straightened his back.

"We should go. This isn't working. We can't get into the drawer, and I bet anyone will be here in some minutes. We can't risk that."

Harry clenched his teeth now, again swallowing away some saliva, and crouched down to pick the ripped-off buttons from the ground. "I'm confused," he muttered. "But yes, I suppose,' he continued– nodding as he hid his face by pointing it towards the ground. "We'll come back later some time. Whatever it is that you need."

Draco leaned against the desk, having put on his shirt already though he couldn't close it since it had no buttons left.

"Sounds like a clever plan to me." He bit his lower lip, looking at the boy in silence before he decided to clear him out a bit. "It's evidence."

Harry shoved his hands over the wooden floor now, piling up all the buttons by this, and as soon as he held them all in one hand, he turned – while still crouching – toward the desk, seeing how Draco leaned against the desk basically in front of him. Without getting up, Harry placed the buttons on the desk – not ripping his eyes from the blonde's appearance just yet. It might have looked frightening a bit. Draco frowned, though he still lightly smiled, and tilted his head as he gazed down at Harry now, wondering what he was doing.

"Are you sure you don't want this?"

The frown on Draco's forehead became deeper, and a bit of concern was written on his face now.

"What are you implying? What do you mean?"

Harry moved closer now, still not getting up, and placed his hands on Draco his hips – staring him straight in his gray bright eyes which shown suspicion.

"I can make you forget, Malfoy," he whispered. "I can make you forget everything that's still bothering you, and burns away your last bit of faith."

Draco laughed a bit nervously and clenched his teeth now.

"I still don't-"

Draco couldn't finish his sentence. Harry already placed his lips upon the skin just above his bellybutton, and a stream of warm shivers ran down his spine. His lower lip began to tremble immediately, and he gazed down – almost squeezing his eyes entirely shut by nervousness.

"W-what are you doing? Potter?"

Harry pursed his lips after pressing another kiss on his skin, this time on the exact spot where his bellybutton was located.

"What do you reckon?"

Draco stared in silence and shook his head – showing a slight sense of panic what made Harry question whether to continue or not. He believed changing the roles would turn out for the better. "I don't know," he squeezed out – lying, somewhere.

"Just chill out," Harry whispered – making a trail of kisses down to the edge of the blonde's pants, and boxers since they stuck out above the edge of his pants just a bit. Draco clenched his fingers around the edge of the wooden desk, squeezing his lips together to leave a groan behind – thinking his moans would be worse than the one Harry squeezed out before.

"Potter-" Draco squeezed out. "I don't-" He couldn't finish, again. The first groan got audible as soon as Harry opened the button of Draco's pants, and pressed his lips against the cloth of his boxers – the place where his lower parts were located. Draco immediately squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his nails against the solid wood, and tried to ignore the pleasure.

"I will kill you," he cursed under his breathe. Harry, still drunk as a dog, didn't seem to care much.

"It's okay,' Harry simply whispered. "I want this," he continued – stroking the blonde's thighs after pushing down his pants. "And you've done me before."


	46. Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SMUT SMUTTY SMUT SMUT SMUT...

It's funny. No matter how hard you try you never seem to see everything that's going on. Harry would spend hours at night, speculating whether he and Draco would ever end up together, being the couple he wanted to be. Wouldn't it be great if they simply came out together, and made an end to all of this? Harry's thoughts were no longer his own. No longer did he wish to become the greatest wizard so in the end he could kill those that tried to kill him. He wished to become the greatest man. The man Draco would truly fall in love with - blemishing the fear that leaked from his pores; the twitch in his brow and the crack in his grin whenever he pretended to be more than he was. Draco wasn't the only one that wished to be free. Harry dreamed of such life all the same. No matter the fame, feeding him on sober days; he wished he could pass on his scar all the same for he would be granted a normal life.

Harry pressed more kisses around the space above his boxer now, and kept stroking his thighs as some way of comforting.

"This was my idea-"

"Sush," Harry breathed now – trying to rid of Draco his underpants. The blonde tried his best to steady his breathe, and knocked the boy on the ground - allowing him to hop back on his feet again. Trying to catch his trousers, his boxers dropped to his knees by accident - getting confronted with his swollen erection – realizing how easy it had been to wet him up.

"You're a big boy," Harry stated - pushing himself up from the floor with his elbows. Draco bit down his lower lip, seeming as if he felt rather pissed, yet pulled the brunette up by his arm - pushing him forcefully against the desk. His hands moved further down Harry's hips, and with his mouth closed he touched the edges of his own teeth with his tongue - making sure they all were covered with saliva. "Don't talk," he continued after.

Just as Draco began to shake his head, blinking a couple of times as he gazed around – still not daring to look down and face his companion together with his little friend – Harry wrapped his fingers around the thin skin of his friend's erection.

'Harry, you don't have-'

Draco was lost, because before he could even finish his sentence, a large groan got audible, and his back writhed without his permission. Harry had covered up the tip of his penis with his lips, and started to press several kisses on it after smirking for just a second – realizing how priceless Draco's expression had been. He loved his naked body. It looked just like pale, precious porcelain.

'Fuck,' Draco cursed – but not because he didn't liked it. That was after all what it was all about. He liked it way too much than he actually should.

'Don't worry,' Harry repeated again as he pulled back his head for a second – wetting his lips to make it more pleasant, and much easier for himself. Within seconds he took his companion's erection in his mouth again – deeper than he had before – and as he finally started to suck, moving his head slowly up and down, Draco just gave in after another loud grown, and threw his head in his neck by delight. His cheeks fluttered bright red, and loud panting got audible. His hands were sweaty now. His fingertips got pinched against the dark wood of the desk, and his back writhed more at the faster Harry moved.

'Damn,' he groaned. 'Fuck- This... Potter. Yes!'

Harry pulled back slightly questioning now – searching for Draco his eyes as he snorted.

'Don't you like it?' He sounded disappointed. Drunk little shit he was.

Draco threw a glance down at him now, his eyes spitting fire as his entire head got red like a tomato by now – mostly all because of feeling incredibly shy and embarrassed.

'I do, now keep going or I'll burn down this entire building!'

Harry smirked and pressed some kisses on his thigh now, chuckling shortly after.

'You know I wouldn't mind.' Not now he was in trouble.

'I'll burn down everything you like,' Draco corrected himself while panting now – his cheeks turning even more red.

'Calm your tits,' Harry grinned. 'now enjoy...'

He continued doing his deed, pressing his pink swollen lips against the tip of the erection again to kiss it like a precious delicatessen.

'Harry,' Draco gasped after Harry had speed up the head within seconds. 'I'm coming.' Harry didn't seem to listen and just kept rubbing the tip of his tongue along its thin skin. 'Potter,' he squeezed out now, not being able to keep himself from rushing his hand through his companion his hair. 'You're so fucking good- I can't-'

Draco clenched his teeth now and pushed Harry away softly, interrupting the brunette's actions before he would actually climax his mouth full, and pulled him up to press him against the desk after – pressing his swollen erection against the boy's bare abdomen, as he passionately started to kiss him on the lips. Draco his whole body shocked and trembled. In almost a rush he started to search for Harry his zipper from his pants, and as soon as he didn't manage it to open it entirely, he just ripped it apart with quite come hostility in his voice. Nevertheless, he smirked shortly after staring at Harry his pink lips, still being able to remember how wonderful they felt. Again he kissed them, biting his lower lip as he shoved his hand into his friend's underpants – all without warning. His warm, sweaty hand clenched itself softly around his companion his erection, and before they both knew it, he started to give him a fast handjob. Harry started to pant as well now, pressing himself closer against Draco as he sank his teeth into his neck. He groaned.

'You dirty piece of shit, just blow me.'

It may have sounded a bit angry and forcing, but Draco smiled at it. He stopped, searching for Harry his eyes as if he was actually surprised by his insult and command. Nevertheless, he kissed his lips again, immediately kneeling down in front of him afterward to pay him in return. Gently. Harry his back writhed as well now. The desk behind him shoved over the wooden floor, and a high pitched sound got audible at it.

'Fuck,' Harry cursed – biting his lower lip, squeezing out a groan. 'Faster, please... I beg you. We are going to get busted-' A lie, obviously, suddenly blaming the world for the fact Draco had so speed up his pass. The blonde smirked and started to lick the skin even slower now – narrowing his eyes suspiciously as a way of teasing. Harry groaned again and clenched his fingers around the edge of the desk as well now, suddenly realizing why Draco did that before. This all gave such tension, his muscles all started to straighten.

'Blaming the school huh,' Draco grinned as he cocked his head – gazing up from under his blonde long eyelashes.

Nevertheless, he continued sucking shortly after. Harry clenched his teeth, realizing how his climax came closer and closer, and in time he almost reached it he managed to squeeze out the last warning.

'Draco-' he panted. 'Draco, I'm coming-'

'Cover me,' Draco replied with a soothing voice – having his eyes shut already as he kept going on even faster by now – though he wasn't using his mouth anymore, but his hand. 'Please.'

Not more than three seconds after Draco's begging, he climaxed – pouring out a large amount of seed over the blonde his lips, cheek, jaw and chin. Draco inhaled deeply, licking his lips slowly to get the bitter taste on his tongue from his companion's precious cum. He acted like it was the whipped cream on a birthday cake. After cleaning up the spaces he couldn't reach with his tongue with his fingers, he licked it off them as well – searching for Harry's face after who still panted and groaned while stroking one of his hands roughly but caring through Draco's hair.

'Please, now finish me,' Draco dared to whisper as his cheeks turned more red. Harry moved his lips up to Draco's and kissed them gently to stroke his lips down his chest afterward. He made his way toward Draco's penis again, desiring for the unfinished climax he was about to manage in hopefully half a minute. In a flash, Harry moved his lips around his erection again, sucking him faster than he had before – apparently wanting to give Draco that blessing climax as well now.

'I'm coming,' Draco suddenly groaned out loud – burying his hands in Harry his dark-brown hair. 'I want you, Harry,' he gasped. 'I wanted you the entire time already- Now please... Please, end this.' Another groan squeezed out of his throat. 'I love you.'

And there it went. Droplets of sticky sperm poured all over Harry's stomach and abdomen - since he leaned back against the desk, and Harry wanted it to – and after he'd entirely climaxed, Harry moved his lips up to the Draco his abdomen so he could lick up the bitter seeds as well now – trying not to throw up as soon as he tried to swallow it. He managed not to, and in the end even seemed to like it - no matter how badly his head spun by the amount of physical exertion and alcohol he had.

Harry got up now, standing tightly with his body against those of Draco, and buried his lips in his neck as he tried to steady his breath.

'I fucking love you too,' he replied him – once against pressing their lower parts against each other.


	47. I wish you were...

That night the boys slept in the room of requirements as per use. In fact, the boys were meeting up every following night for at least a week or two straight until each and everyone had gotten back from their holiday - so it was no longer safe. Suspicion grew quick between the halls of Hogwarts, no matter how the acts within the castle were a mystery to many all the same. Ronald took great care of keeping an eye on the brunette, and though Hermione could barely stay in the same room with him for longer than an hour, she tried to do so all the same. As if someone told them to. Harry claimed to be clueless about the acts they'd been suspecting him of, yet he feared they already knew. Ginny wouldn't look him in the eye. Even after two weeks of being apart, she kept her distance as if he was a criminal. Could she have told? Would she have told? As soon as every student arrived back at school, it appeared Draco had disappeared again. Like a ghost, he vanished behind the walls, and his touch remained nothing but a pleasant memory. Though the two didn't have many classes left together, he didn't seem to meet him around. Only every now and then Harry claimed to see him walking around in the corridors, heading down to the dungeons to get to the Slytherin's common room. Harry wished to call after him whenever he caught his eye, yet feared he couldn't for many suspected too much already.

For weeks they didn't speak at all, and it seemed as if everything had turned back to normal. Harry was following his classes. Hermione and Ron were able to sit in the same room again - and actually share a word or two - and Ginny found herself a new boy to keep her eyes to. Quidditch practice would be starting again soon. A great distraction to keep Harry's mind of the heartache - for he felt let down once more. Luckily, as time passed, he'd managed to keep a straight face. No more questions about his feelings, or the blonde he'd been chasing for months. It was like everything had been forgotten. And how? Two weeks break was all it took, and the rays of spring sunlight sneaking up from the top of the hills - brightening up the faces of each and every defeated student looking for more than the time of year had to offer. It wasn't till the end of February for the two to interfere once more - stumbling upon each other during a walk on the castle grounds. Harry had been gathering supplies for the upcoming quidditch practice, and on his way back stumbled upon the blonde sitting in a tree.

"Aren't you a little bit too old for that?" Harry raised his hand to cover his eyes - the sunlight forcing him to frown. Draco laughed in silence - the cap of his robe covering his forehead as if he didn't wish to be seen.

"Didn't think you would spot me."

"Well, I saw someone sitting from miles away." Harry smiled painfully. "Didn't think it was you at first though."

"Good." The blonde took his time to scan the grounds, see if there would be anyone around to bother, so he could jump out next. A groan escaped his lips as his heels hit the grass.

"You play it well," Harry mumbled as he hopped from heel to heel - feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

"What do you mean?"

Harry scoffed softly, looking away as if he tried to find the words. "We haven't been talking for almost a month or two."

"I didn't want to raise any suspicion."

"As if this wouldn't," Harry fired back.

The blonde lowered his cap - revealing his icy hair - and looked up at him, guilty. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this." Though he kept a fine distance, he reached out for his hand from under his long robe sleeves - grabbing Harry's index finger with his pinky. Harry's expression immediately softened, and he batted his eyes - blushing as a smile appeared.

"I thought you got tired of me."

"Tire of me if you wish, but I will not tire of you."

Harry couldn't stop smiling and stepped in - waiting for a few seconds - until he greedily wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, pulling him close for a hug. His eyes boiled with tears as they dangled away into the shadows of the tree - burying their faces in each others neck.

"I miss you," Harry cried under his breath - sniffling against the collar of Draco's shirt.

"I miss you too," Draco replied with a breath, tightening his arms around the boy's body. "Everything will be better in time."

Harry chuckled under his breath - snorting as he wiped a tear away. Shaking his head in vain. "How? How are we going to get through this?"

Draco pulled back, looking at Harry - loosening his grip. "We will figure something out."

Harry bit the inside of his lip, shaking his head - his eyes hurting. Flinching once he saw a group of students walking closer from a distance. Draco turned his head - only a bit - to get a glimpse from within the corners of his eyes and slowly stepped back as he touched the bark of the tree he'd been lingering in.

Harry held his breath, taking a few steps back - fixing his robes as he watched his lover create a distance.

"Tonight. At the boathouse. At eight?"

Harry quickly nodded - wiping his nose with his sleeve as he walked to the side - another tear drawing down his cheek. "I wish you were a girl."

Draco looked at him for a second, wanting to reply, but tore away his eyes and left - leaving Harry standing near the gate.


	48. Eight

Today was way more difficult to keep a straight face. Though Harry finally shared some words with Draco after a while, he still couldn't believe how it could've taken so long for them to meet again. Eagerly he waited for the day to end, and dinner to be served at the Great Hall. After stuffing his mouth with mashed potatoes and chicken, he rushed over to the castle grounds once more - hoping to see the blonde before he would arrive at the boathouse were they were meant to meet. The air was nice that evening. Warm, especially for the time of year. No jacket was needed. Though the sun was low, and almost already vanished, the last beams of light felt great on his skin. It felt like being kissed. As if he could taste the bittersweet of future; the postponed love he was meant to find. Harry didn't find a trace of Draco, walking past the tree and the river - keeping an eye out for any Perfects. Would he bail out again? Harry shook off his fears, starting by shaking his head all the way down from his arms to his legs as he exhaled – as if he was about to put up a fight. He would be right on time. Eight was the time they'd agreed on. Draco insisted so himself. However, now the time was there, Harry didn't feel so eager anymore. Why wait for two months to show yourself again? In fact, how was he able to disappear like that – even though they went to the exact same school. They lived there.

Harry bit his lip, watching the boathouse from afar – for a split second reconsidering his actions. Looking at his feet he realized he didn't have much more to lose. He could either be happy or disappointed for going – and if he wouldn't, he would be so all the same. Harry considered this his last call. At one point he would have to continue living his life anyways. Especially since other danger still played with his life like all was just a game. He couldn't allow this to ruin him before all that even worked out. He was chosen, and probably meant to act that way. Harry growled. The thoughts of letting him go stung his heart. If he only didn't have to...

The wood crackled under his boots. Here and there it seemed a little bit slippery, and right before reaching the open entrance Harry almost lost his balance.

"Easy there."

Harry looked up from the floor, smiling once he figured out he came.

"Oh thank fuck, you showed up."

"Afraid that I wouldn't?" Draco stood at the end of the stretched boathouse, - hands in his pockets while leaning against the wooden wall. Harry sighed deeply, chuckling under his breath as he walked closer.  
"I- I don't know," Harry stammered, "Maybe a little, yes."

"Well, I'm here."


	49. Fool

Harry smiled once more, though it faded as soon as he realized the blonde didn't come any closer. "Can I kiss you?"

Draco bit his lip, staring down his shoes. "I-" he started pensively. He looked up at the ceiling, swallowing away his pride. "I can't do this anymore, Harry. The thought of being pointed at- it..." he took a deep breath, "...it's just too much." Draco looked up, walking a little closer to see the confusion in Harry his eyes.

"What?" Harry shook his head, his eyes boiling up with tears. An immediate headache causing a lack of breath. "Why the... What about what we said before? What about fuck everyone else! We are who we are right? What fucking changed! What did I do!?"

Drace turned his back, extending one of his arms - using a finger to secretly wipe a tear way. "It will be easier this way."

"How!?" Harry screamed once throwing his arms in the air. "How is this going to make it any easier? You said you missed me this morning!" His face had turned red with fury. This relationship was toxic. Unbelievable. Made up with lies. As if he'd been fooled for months after months.

"Things have to end, Harry," Draco simply responded, not having the nerve to turn back around. "I don't expect you to understand. I just want you to accept it." Draco gritted his teeth, wiping his runny nose with the him of his blouse - stretching his shoulders to adjust his attitude.

"I-" Harry stammered breathlessly, his eyes begging for Draco to turn and look, "I just don't understand," he responded nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Draco turned around at last. No evidence of sadness left on his face to be read. He walked up, lifting his arm to hug him, yet stopped midway. "I have to go. I can't be seen outside. Not after all the things I've been caught for. They will have me expelled."

"Everyone knows already," Harry cut through. "You don't have to do this. It's not going to solve anything."

"Goodnight, Harry..." Draco muttered as he walked passed him.

"No," Harry pled - watching his lover leave into the distance. "No, Draco, please. Don't-" He followed him in despair, trying to reach for him, eager to get a hold of him. "I loved you!" he growled as he dropped his knees into the grass. "I fucking loved you!!!" The veins in his neck bumped as he roared, pulling the weeds from the soil as he wept. "Curse you!" He drew his hands past his face, smearing the tears down his cheeks. "Fuck you..."


	50. Nightfall

The day bled further into nightfall. Harry laid down on the grass for hours. Crying, until the wind turned from warm to cold and the stars decided to come out and play. His eyes hurt. His glasses no longer had a purpose and his clothes had become damp by the evening dew. He had to go back. Once he managed to drag his body back to the castle he considered walking past the Slytherin dorms. Harry couldn't comprehend the loss of his love. He closed his eyes as he walked, his fingertips drawing along the walls while he fought his tears. Every time he closed his eyes more memories seemed to come back. How it all started, how they fought, how they met. Yet once he opened his eyes he wasn't there. Though he'd planned to head back to his dorms, he stumbled upon the room of requirements like he always did. Even though he didn't look up once the door appeared, it opened by himself - letting Harry in as he staggered forward.

"I just wish we could talk it out," Harry whispered as he dropped down on one of the beds they pushed together ages ago. He pulled over the sheets, covering his shoulders as he inhaled the smells - dreaming of picking up the scent of his blonde.

"We can't," a voice responded from behind. Harry quickly moved, opening his mouth to let out a gasp, a cry.

"Shh," Draco comfortably hushed as he sat down on the same bed. He drew his fingers down the sides of Harry's face, pressing his forehead against his as he held him close. "We can't," he continued with an comforting voice.

"Why are you here?" Harry stammered, his runny nose blocking his vocals. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's not just me, Harry," Draco replied, wiping Harry's tears away. "I love you,"

Harry smiled as he led out a cry, nodding his head as he held the blonde's face. "I love you too, so, so much. I just don't know what to do anymore. You are driving me crazy." He looked up, his eyes red and irritated - as if he hadn't slept in days. "I can't go on without you."

"You don't have to," Draco comforted him as he held his face. "You don't have to. You don't have to do anything. Right now I just want you to lay down and sleep. Alright?"

Harry grabbed his sleeves, taking a hold of the blonde - not allowing him to leave. "Don't go, please."

"I wont," Draco secured him. "I just want you to go and sleep so we can talk about it tomorrow."

"How do I know you're not lying?" Harry mumbled as he took some distance. He could no longer trust the boy who played with his feelings.

"You don't," Draco continued. "I just want you to know that no matter what I say or what I do. I love you, and I always will. It's just a lot more complicated than we wish to believe."

"I don't understand," Harry muttered as his eyes went heavy.

"It's all in your head," Draco replied softly - guiding Harry onto his back. Harry could no longer respond. He was asleep...


	51. Under my skin

Harry woke up the other morning. Although his head felt heavy, he seemed to be well rested. The bed beside him was empty. No trace of the blonde was left on the disorientated patterned sheets. Harry shook his head, lifting his arms to stretch his sore muscles. He wondered if Draco was still around, planning on fixing his broken heart. There was a lot that didn't bear thinking about. Thinking could hurt his chances, and he wanted to last. Unfortunately the will of the mind always remained stronger – even though many believed the heart was the one to fool, but so would the head. However you wished to approach it, concerns would never leave as easy. They would burn its mark onto your soul, and you would be the one to fight it – if you could. He had Draco under his skin – wiggling and cutting through his flesh like razorblades. It would be easier not to love. But it was too late for that now. He could drown in the presence of the blonde. It resonated to the core of his being, his vocals washing over him like raw honey - thick and sweet. He was sick with the pure delight and obsession over him. As if he'd never loved before.

They had to talk. They had to sit down and talk for hours. No more bullshit. No more lies. Harry couldn't bear to live another minute knowing Draco's feelings could change like the weather on sunny spring day. Harry took a glance behind him, watching the dusty piano that used to make a fine melody a long time ago. It reminded him of the first few encounters with Draco. Sexual encounters. Full of tension and burning desire. It seemed silly to keep his mind busy with business he shouldn't commit to. Would his parents have accepted his sexual preferences? If this was a preference at all? Harry would still not admit to be gay – knowing what went on with the blonde went far beyond just loving or lust. It was like they were drawn to each other. Made to intertwine. Soulmates. Forbidden lovers like the ones in the muggle stories about Romeo and Juliet. He remembered those books lingering around aunt Petunia – wanting more from live than it had to offer, knowing her life would never be as exciting as those of the two forbidden lovers – or her lost, magical sister and (by aunt Petunia's) abandoned child. He could no longer remember the last time he went to the Dudley's. Boy, what would happened if they know about him and Draco. They would go bloody mad.

Harry gathered the strength to get up and go for a walk. Classes no longer bothered him. Attending any of them wouldn't advance his grades, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep a hold of his thoughts. It was time to have the crucial talk. Walking down the halls he realized it was almost impossible to bear the daylight. His eyes were dry and irritated by all the crying – even though everything that happened last night seemed like a dream to him. His bloodshot eyes were the only evidence for the pain in his heart. The explanation of what seemed to have happened last night could be actually very real. Harry had no idea where to search for the blonde. Draco would disappear from time to time with various vivid reason that never seemed to make sense. The only way to track him down was to go down into the dungeons and find a way to contact him or any of his friends.

Harry's legs didn't seem to understand the normal way of walking – his mind suffering from constant disruptions causing him to stop every time in a while. On his way walking past the Great Hall he interfered with various friends – leaving their concerns about Harry's disturbing appearance (tired and dirty). He scattered them away. Nothing seemed to matter. Not to him. No longer.

"Who has seen Draco?" Harry asked as students past by in a rush to get to their class on time. "Draco Malfoy, anyone?"

"Draco?" Seamus responded – full of disbelieve. "He's been gone for months. You got him expelled. Remember?"

Harry shook his head – frowning his brows, unable to comprehend the answer. "No, I don't think so- I... If you see him tell him I'm looking for him, okay?"

Seamus turned his back, shaking his head as he gathered with his mates to talk as they walked away – leaving Harry without a word.


	52. Turning wheel

Harry was done for that day. No longer could he comprehend the events of today. He seemed to be floating – as if he were in a dream – and he didn't like it one bit. Nothing made sense. Nothing seemed to have a logic explanation. Nothing seemed to work in his advance. He felt silly for looking for Draco. He felt bad for being fooled again. For being made fun of in front of everyone. Maybe he just had to let go. Let go of everything he'd been struggling with.   
It was dinner time and Harry decided not to participate. His stomach was empty, yet couldn't rumble. His guts were filled with lies and nerves - spreading through his body to ruin his appetite. It worked. He hadn't eaten since yesterday. He laid on his bed in his dorms, controlling paper kites with his wand as they drew through the room.   
"Aren't you a little bit too old for that?"   
Harry nearly dropped his wand as he curled up his legs – pulling the sheets tightly around his shoulders. A voice came from the corner, yet no one seemed to be there.   
"Malfoy?" Harry stuttered as he turned to the side of his bed – ready to step out and go for a hunt. A hand from behind pulled him back onto the bed, causing Harry to twitch as he huffed in fear.  
"Don't worry," the voice said. Harry turned his head, looking for the one to hold him to the bed. The blonde sat down on the other side of the mattress; his shirt partially unbuttoned. "It's just me, alright?"   
"What- Why are you here? What are you doing?" Harry breathed, grabbing his head – a sudden headache frying his brain.   
"I thought we were going to talk?"  
"You aren't here, Draco. It's just in my head. Leave me alone." Harry rubbed his eyes, wanting to leave the bed – yet the sheets got a hold of him.   
"What are you talking about?" Draco chuckled under his breath. "Of course I'm here." He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder once more, pulling him closer as he went to lay down himself. "Harry, are you alright?"  
Harry turned his head, looking back over his shoulder – staring at the blonde spooning him, holding him close. His breathe felt real and pleasantly warm against the skin in his neck. So did his arms around his waist. How couldn't this be real?  
"I'm sorry," Harry exhaled as he closed his eyes. "I am lost. I have no clue what's going on with me."   
Draco drew his fingers past Harry's arm, kissing the spots of skin in Harry's neck as he sighed. "Don't worry too much."  
Harry opened his eyes again, turning in anger, biting his lip as he pushed the blonde's hands away.   
"Fuck you," Harry cursed as he kicked with his feet. "Get off of me."  
Draco curled back his arms, frowning his brows as he took some distance – yet without leaving the bed. "Wow, easy there. What's gotten into you?"  
"Don't," Harry threatened as he pointed at him. "Don't even start. You're a fucking snake. Your silver tongue will no longer work on me."  
Draco's expression blurred into a blank canvas. Nothing was left to be read on the blonde's face. "What are you talking about?"  
"I'm done," Harry muttered – trying to keep his face straight with anger, though his lips started to tremble and his eyes began to water. "I'm done with you." He took a big breath before he turned his back to him, pulling the sheets over his head. "I want you to go," he gritted through his teeth – waiting for the weight to leave the bed. Though a silence fell, he could not feel the blonde leave.   
"I said GO!" Harry growled as he jumped up, grabbing his wand to point it at the bed. Harry fell to his knees, grabbing the edge of his bed as he cried – knowing no one was there.


	53. Wrackspurts

The school no longer felt magical to him. The reason of his presence here seemed a mere lie, and he was close to losing all of his friends. This place no longer felt like home. He no longer followed the education of witchcraft and wizardry. It felt like he walked the distorted path to his death row. He'd lost his appetite - just as his sanity - and thought of opening up to professor Dumbledore. He wanted to lay low for a while. Perhaps stay at the Weasleys, or any place else just to be far away from Draco. Luna confronted Harry the other day. She claimed his head was full of wrackspurts once more - an infection cause by tiny, invisible magical creatures - possible to be expelled by thinking positive thoughts. Depressing, reminding him he didn't have any.   
Harry claimed for last night's encounter to be simply a dream. In fact he decided to visit several teachers today to ask around if anyone had any information about Malfoy. Was it true that he'd been expelled for months? He remembered a while ago when Draco visited him at the Masquerade, telling him so. But still? Would he come to visit, endangering himself just for him? To see Harry? It was impossible to hide a smile during the thought of that.

Harry could no longer remember the moment he first noticed the change. He sat down in the fountain courtyard watching the leaves dance with the wind. His right leg twitched rapidly, unable to control his muscles now nervousness and doubt controlled him. He looked down at his paper note that contained catchwords in case he would forget what he was trying to imply. He still considered whether he should leave or not. If just for a couple of weeks. The headmaster would understand. Wouldn't he?

"Harry?"

Hermione appeared from behind the gate wielding a concerned frown. "Harry, please talk to me." She sat down next to him, grabbing his hand as she leaned in. Her hands were as soft as her words. She was calm and loving for once. "You know Ron and I will always love you, no matter what. Right?"

Harry turned his head slowly as Hermione pressed her hand onto his twitching knee. "Right?"

Harry crumpled his notes while he tried to look her in the eye. "Why are you saying this?" he smiled faintly.   
"I know you've been feeling like you've lost us. Gosh, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you..."

"What are you talking about?"

Hermione huffed under her breath as she looked away - still holding his hand. "I was so caught up with my own infatuation I totally missed yours." She drew her fingers through his hair as she tilted her head to the side. "I'm sorry,"she continued guilty. "I know I shouldn't call it that."

Harry was unable to move. The questioning expression remained on his face, though now panic glistened his eyes. "What?"

"You and Draco. Is it true?"

Harry turned away his face as his eyes turned red. He stammered, but couldn't reply.

"It is, isn't it?" Hermione sighed. "I want you to know that I respect that, Harry." She tried to move his face yet he pulled back - unwilling to look at her. "I'm so sorry I did not know so before. That I wasn't there for you."

"Well, you shouldn't have," Harry mumbled as he jumped off the stone bench, yanking the tears off his cheek. He looked at her, questioning whether to speak, until he turned around and left.   
He needed to talk.


	54. Selflessness

After Harry took a couple of hours of self-therapy (which meant crying on his own in his dorms while skipping class) he gathered the guts to have a talk with the headmaster. He had a couple of questions containing one crucial. What happened to Draco Malfoy? After half an hour roaming he decided to have a belated tea party with his pity self. When professor Dumbledore wasn't in his office he could be absolutely everywhere. That man could walk through walls - and not just because he was a powerful wizard. Harry fumbled the corners of the Quibbler he'd been trying to read for the last fifteen minutes. Luna had been encouraging him to read the article about Wrackspurts and even offered him a free copy. He couldn't decline. Luna was a generous and good person. Totally suited her name.

After an article about broom grooming he looked up from the magazine, an exhale left his mouth. Was he really going to bring this up? Breaking bones all over again, getting into trouble? He stopped questioning as soon as he saw a familiar robe drawing through the hall. He quickly put away his cup of tea and fastened his tie as he hopped on his feet - rushing towards the gate.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry called as he turned up his speed. "Professor?" He called once more, wiggling between the students that ruined his sight - as if a force didn't want them to catch up. "Professor! Professor Dumbledore!?" Harry was no longer walking. Right now he was running - pushing people to the sides as he watched Dumbledore vanish around the corner. "Professor, Wait!"

At that very moment Harry tripped - losing his glasses, his view turning black. For a couple of seconds it felt like he could no longer breathe. His ears were deafened. He drew his hands along the floor, reaching for his glasses - gasping in panic as soon as he found them, realizing something took a hold of him.

He got swept off the floor, his robes nearly choking him as he got tugged along. He could not see the person taking him hostage. Someone tugged him backwards through a deserted corridor while Harry tried to put his glasses back on. "Fuck-" Harry screeched - grabbing the hems of his collar, trying to gasp for air. Suddenly he landed on his bottom - his glasses dropping down his nose having him to shove them back up again. "What the actual-"

"-Mister Potter."

Harry gulped and dropped his head as he sighed. "Professor Snape," he replied - not to greet but to state.

"Why the rush?" Snape never asked for an answer. No. He demanded it.

"What's with the kidnapping?" Harry snapped back as he got up from his feet. He brushed the dirt off his knees and tugged his robes back into place. "You nearly got me killed."

Snape did not reply. He simply stood there for a couple of seconds until he turned away - folding the edges of his sleeves as a part of grooming.

"No running allowed inside the premises"

"And it bothers you why? Harry snapped back as he tried to make his way back to the great hall.

"Because it does," Snape continued sharply - grabbing Harry's wrist to prevent him from leaving. "I always-"

"Stop it!" Harry yanked his hand away - drawing his wand as he took his position. "I want answers. From you, from Professor Dumbledore..." Harry drew a breath - his eyes glistening with pain and adrenaline. "I don't think I deserve this."

Snape allowed him to finish speaking, yet disarmed him with a spell once the last vowel left his mouth. "How dare you to raise your wand at me." Strange, how even now the tune of his voice barely changed. Ever so slow, ever so waspish.

Harry stepped back, his eyes fixated on his wand laying at least a few meters away from him.

"After everything I've done for you. I could have gotten you expel-"

"Stop the selflessness," Harry cried as he grabbed his head. "You don't understand."

Snape pulled a face of disapproval and disgust, turning away to leave.

"Tell me about Draco," Harry sighed as he dropped his attitude. He swallowed, hoping to make the following more easy to say, yet his voice was broken.

"Please..."


	55. Questioning your sanity

Snape stopped, his eyes widening - his muscles slightly tensing as he sighed inaudibly.

" I want to hear it," Harry continued as he cried, "from you, from professor Dumbledore. For hell I care Lucius Malfoy tells me so." He sniffed and dropped his shoulders. "Anyone... Just tell me the truth?"

Snape looked outside the windows in silence. This lasted for about ten seconds before he finally replied without turning.

"You know the truth."

"I want to hear it from you," Harry insisted as he took a step closer, yet to pick up his wand.

"Follow me," Snape muttered as he started to walk. Harry quickly whipped a tear off his cheek as he fetched his wand: semi-ready to follow the truth.

The both of them ended at the entrance of professor Dumbledore's office without sharing another word. Once their presence was accepted they led themselves in - Snape deciding to linger near the doorway, gesturing Harry to go further in. Professor Dumbledore stood at the pensieve. He held his eyes closed as he slightly leaned over - looking up once Snape had introduced the both of them with his penetrating voice.

"It took you long enough," Dumbledore spoke pensively as he turned around. Snape flicked his wand, preventing anyone else from coming in.

"What is going on?" Harry managed to draw from his lips, his voice broken. It was no longer a question. He demanded an explanation. Or else: a hospital bed. Dumbledore, calm as always, gestured Harry to come closer.

"I would like to show you something."

Harry followed as he parted his lips. Once he arrived at the pensive he looked down at the turbulent blue water from afar. Fear glistened his eyes as he tore his glance away - unwilling to grand his memories another piece of his heart.

"I still remember this," Harry commented breathlessly as he whipped the tears of his cheeks. "I will never stop remembering this." Harry could hear a weak cry. A cry from a boy he hurt so terribly with a spell he should have never used. He scoffed once more as he took his distance. "You are trying to punish me." He looked at the both of them. "Why are you doing this? The both of you..."

Dumbledore's expression merely changed until he looked at Snape. He was still standing in the corner as if he didn't want any part of it.

"Tell me, Harry," Dumbledore started as he folded his hands. "What has been going on lately?"

"I'd ask you the same question," Harry snapped back as he scratched the back of his head.

"You've missed quite a lot of classes. Your roommates have been so kind to inform me that you've been hardly sleeping in your own bed."

"What are you implying?" Harry asked as he threw a quick glance at Snape - as if he wouldn't know anything about it.

"Nothing at all. I am just concerned. They have also told me that if you did sleep in your dorms you would have quite a lot of nightmares." Dumbledore looked down at a piece of parchment. "And you seem to talk in your sleep?"

Harry laughed out of ridicule, shaking his head as he looked at his hands. "I have no idea what this has to do with what I'm coming for."

Dumbledore walked closer and put his hand onto Harry's shoulder as he tried to look him in the eye. He seemed worried.

"Harry," he started, kind as ever. "Dear boy. I know."

Harry looked him in the eye, startled, and did not reply. Snape, in the meantime, turned away as if he wished to mind his own business, and let them be.

"I know about you and Draco."

Harry wished to reply but couldn't. Not at first. He shook his head once more and turned away - freeing himself from his comforting touch.

"This isn't helping," Harry eventually continued as he walked away. His eyes scanned the room as if he'd never seen it before, and he clenched his teeth. "I want to know what's been going on lately." He turned once more to look professor Dumbledore in the eye. "Someone should know. I'm starting to question my sanity."

"Then ask me specifically," Dumbledore responded.

Harry gathered his strength and straightened his back as if he was about to perform an interview. Dumbledore could be the one to know, and he wanted answers.

"Has Draco Malfoy been attending school lately?"

"No," Dumbledore replied in all honesty. "But you have been very aware of that."

Harry exhaled deeply and wiggled his fingers as he stretched his arms down his sides. "Would Draco Malfoy be able to get into Hogwarts if he wanted to?"

"No," Dumbledore replied once more - almost as if he felt guilty.

Harry scoffed nervously and glanced at professor Snape who'd been listening all along and appeared to show a new kind of emotion: pity.

"There must be some way, right?" Harry looked at the both of them in fear. "I mean, you've said it before. With the Voldemort... There must be some-"

"No, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted him calmly.

"Well there must be," Harry panicked. "I saw him! We've met. We've met so many times. I swear, I'm not crazy."

"I know you're not, Harry." Dumbledore took a deep breathe and gestured Snape to come closer. "Severus, please. Could you?"

Severus bowed his head.

"Harry," Dumbledore spoke again. "We have to tell you something."


	56. Wide eyed

The following minutes seemed to last longer than forever. Had Harry been right? Or had he been oh so wrong? Harry rubbed his hands through his untidy hair as his eyes troubled with tears. He pulled his roots, biting his lip as he couldn't find the strength to look them in the eye. "I'm not sure I can handle this," Harry whispered as professor Dumbledore's words vividly echoed through his head.

"I am so sorry, Harry. I wish we could tell you different. I am saddened to inform you that I've had you obliviated in the past. Professor Snape and I decided this was the only way to keep you on the right tracks. We have decided to tell you this today because..."

The truth became inaudible the longer Dumbledore went on. Harry closed his eyes, rubbing his face as tears drew down his cheeks, a strike of breath leaving his throat as the final words dropped and left the room bare and cold. How it happened no longer mattered to him. What happened would never leave his memory. It was only the confirmation coming from Dumbledore's mouth that broke him to pieces.

"... that he's dead."

Harry shook his head, unable to keep his emotions to their limits, and cried.

"Draco Malfoy did not survive the damage inflicted on his body. Once Severus found him it was too late. I am so sorry, Harry."

"How," Harry cried under his breath. "How could you! How could you lie to me..."

"It's okay," a comforting voice spoke from next to him. Harry opened his eyes and looked aside, watching as Draco knelt down next to him, rubbing his knee. Harry gasped, crying out in fear and pain as he jumped up from his seat - trying to keep his balance.

"Please," Harry yielded. "Don't-"

***

"Is he awake?"

"Shut up, you're scaring him."

"-Says who?"

Harry tried to open his eyes. Though this took great effort, and the lights seemed to burn his pupils,

the longer he gazed the world seemed to reappear. A crowd of smiling folks stood around him and

greeted him gradually.

"Draco?" Harry muttered as he wanted to get up, but his body didn't budge.

Ron raised a brow and followed the crowd to see if anyone would join.

"Aren't we good enough for you?"

Hermione hit him on the head and shuffled closer to Harry who remained to be drained of colour.

"Are you okay, Harry? You scared us all to bits."

Madam Pomfrey came waltzing in with her hands held high as she cried.

"Get out of the way, everyone. You are giving this boy a stroke with all the questions."

The group spread out like butter on warm toast and watched from afar as Pomfrey checked the boy's temperature. "How are you feeling dear?"

Harry could barely speak. His mouth was dry and his body weak. As if he hadn't been using his muscles for days.

"What happened?" he muttered as he slowly rocked his head from side to side.

"You've had a mild concussion, that's all, dear."

Harry gulped and tried to climb out of bed - resulting for his arms to swing half-cross the air, his body unable to grand him what he wanted. "I need to go," he stammered as he managed to kick one foot out of bed. "I need to go..."

"Mister Potter, I've been asked to keep you in bed. I cannot allow-"

"I need to..." Harry cried as he swung his arms against Madam Pomfrey's side to push her away. "Let me go through!"

The crowd looked from afar - great worry coming from their faces, and a perfect, Harry could not extinguish, asked them all to leave. Harry cried and gasped for breath as several nurses came running in and were asked to keep him down.

"I am not crazy!"

"Call for Professor Sprout," Madam Pomfrey yelled at painting the lady in white - hanging from the west-side wall. "Tell her to bring us a new batch of aconite."

Pomfrey raised her wand and drew a line above Harry's panicking face. A green fog landed down on his forehead and he fell fast asleep.

Madam Pomfrey sighed as the other nurses let go of the boy. She took the empty vial of wideye potion and gave it to one of the nurses. "We will try it again later. But not tonight."


	57. You

It wasn't until the next morning that Madam Pomfrey decided to wake Harry up again. After a small rain-check they decided it would be best if Harry'd wake up alone - maybe two friends to accompany him while recovering from his head trauma. Truth to be told, the big crowd was never meant to be there. It just happened for them to sneak in anyway. Hogwarts students truly had their own set of rules lined out when it came to friends. Slughorn came in early this morning, accompanied by professor Sprout telling the nurses he brewed a new wideye potion for Harry's concussion. He, however, claimed for them to use the potion with great care and less expanse - knowing it could do more harm than good if used wrongly. Madam Pomfrey made sure to show her disbelieve, unable to accept Slughorn's concern since she'd been a well-known and respected nurse at Hogwarts for years. Slughorn had simply huffed and waved before he shuffled back towards his office. He cared, but not enough to make a great deal about it.

Ron and Hermione were gathered out of bed that morning. Armed with sweets and presents they sat at the end of the bed, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to do her magic. After a small consumption of the wideye potion Harry gradually opened his eyes - waking in the exact same room as last night, though he had forgotten.

"Where am I?" Harry muttered as he slowly pushed the sheets off his upper body.

"Take it easy," Ron supported him as he shoved a little closer.

"You're at the hospital wing, Harry. You've had a little concussion." Hermione smiled down on him, happy to see him in a better state. He seemed calm now. Secured.

"What happened?" Harry wanted to rub his head but hissed as his shoulder began to sting.

"Your shoulder was a little dislocated since your collarbone broke. But it's all fixed up now, dear boy." Madam Pomfrey tapped the bottle of Skele-grow.

Harry gulped at the nurse with blurry, fishy eyes - unable to comprehend anything she was saying.

"There was an accident." Hermione looked at Ron - he nodded. "No one really know what happened, but we've concluded that you fell from the moving stairs."

Harry raised his brows and relocated his head on his pillow. "The stairs?"

"Yeah," Ron continued. "It's quite a miracle you survived. It appears you've been sleepwalking."

Harry sighed and blinked as he looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember what happened the other night. "How long was I gone?" He tried to remain calm as he pushed himself up - trying to find out what time it was.

"Nearly a week. Mostly because your brain went all fuzzy. You turned out to be a nut."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed between her teeth as she poked him in the stomach.

"A nut?"

"Don't worry about that, Harry. All that matters is that you're awake, and that you're okay."

"-But," Ronald slowly spoke - trying to keep his distance from Hermione's beating hand, "-you are most famous for being 'the boy that fell', now." He chuckled a little. "But don't worry. Fred 'n George have something planned against Malfoy and his rats. If I'm correct they tried some of their puking pastilles on them. At least Crabbe seemed keen to eat them." Someone retched behind them causing Ron to pop up from his chair in joy. "That might be him!"

Harry swore his head was about to explode by all the information dropping in - or it was the wideeye potion being given, again, a bit too much. "Malfoy?" Harry stammered as he grabbed Ron by the arm.

Ron cocked his head and frowned. "Yeah? Draco has been making a fool out of you all week?"

The world stopped spinning.

"I swear, if you are lying I'll be breaking your freaking arm," Harry dug his nails inside Ronald's flesh.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron jerked his arm - shuffling back to Hermione, as if she was any safer to sit next to. "Mild concussion my ass."

Harry sunk back into bed and stared at the ceiling as thousands moments flashed right before his eyes, consuming his soul.

"He's a lunatic," Ron whispered in Hermione's ear before she got up. She scowled at him underneath her breath as he whimpered.

"You should rest, Harry." Hermione hovered above him and brushed through his untidy hair.   
"It's good to have you back. We will see you this afternoon?" She squeezed his hand before she hopped back onto her feet and grabbed Ronald by the him of his shirt to tug him along.

It's good to have you back.

Harry held his breath while cold sweat drenched his body.

It's good to have you back.

\---

The end of the first story


End file.
